


Redefining Normalcy

by Mnemosphere



Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: F/M, Nadalind, Secrets, characters not knowing how to talk to each other, lots of compartmentalizing, ongoing sexual tension, somewhat based on canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-09
Updated: 2018-01-25
Packaged: 2018-05-25 19:19:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 44,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6207292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mnemosphere/pseuds/Mnemosphere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fic picks up during 5x11 and continues thereafter with strong basis on canon. Exploring the evolving relationship between Nick and Adalind amid the growing turmoil created by their own convoluted past and the threat of Black Claw.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written because the Nick/Adalind pairing has hijacked my brain and the general dearth of fic about them is extremely annoying. There are so many AU possibilities yet none so awesome as their current circumstances. Also written with the general motto of: Write the porn you want to read! :) Probably will write more, time permitting. Not beta read so all mistakes are my own.

He had known she wasn’t going to be happy about him leaving. Rosalee had hinted at it too, meaning even she knew it was not going to go well. Somehow it was Adalind's level of concern that really got to him. He still didn’t think that it was likely that this was going to be a life and death kind of adventure, especially with them being under the radar, but he knew it was a possibility. But he thought it unlikely that whatever the Knights had hidden was actually a threat. Probably more a tool or instrument, for what he didn’t know but he doubted it would be anything resembling a malevolent presence. She made some good points, and he appreciated that she was thinking about it, but he also knew that he had to go.

Telling her that he was leaving was only part of it though. The other part was telling her that he was leaving now. Tomorrow. So he told her as gently as he could. He told her and watched her react, watched her face crumple up before she had to turn and walk away. He couldn’t leave it there though, so he followed her into the bedroom. He wanted to reach out to her, to hold her by the shoulders but the space between them yawned before him.

But then she breached it.

Adalind. Her face revealed more than she realized. Even when they had first met and she had remained so controlled, there had still been moments when her real feelings leaked through.

It was the way she was looking at him. So earnest and open, completely unguarded as she put her hands on his chest and kissed him. That had been surprising but it was not wholly unexpected, anticipated. Except that she didn't stop there. Her hands traced down and paused over the buttons on his shirt and undid them. His eyes flew open in surprise. This was a barrier they had never broached.

He might have been able to resist if it had only been that but her next words undid him. "I know that this is a mistake, but I love you.” He was left stunned, amazed, bewildered and in that moment she pulled him down and he fell, drawn into her orbit.

He couldn’t stop, he couldn’t pull away.

She was irresistible. He felt his skin charge and warm as she yielded so completely before him. She was so warm, her mouth open and soft, her hands firm and yet so sure as she held him to her, pressed her breasts to his chest. He felt like he lost time as he grasped back, as he pushed them back onto the bed and finally, finally he was allowed, he was welcomed as they kissed and kissed.

She was beautiful, breasts full and lush, skin so smooth, but he barely registered these details because he was so focused on her face, on the way she looked and how she looked at him, the feel of her touch. Her hand skimming down his belly and sliding into his pants to unbutton and unzip, the catch in his chest as she did so while she watched him. The moment they were completely bare, the feel of her sex, the soft dark blonde curls pressed against him. Kissing and kissing as he entered her, having to pull away to see her face as he came to rest fully inside of her. Her hands on his shoulders, her legs around his waist, mouth wet and swollen with their kisses and her eyes locked on his face. The way her eyes fluttered shut as he began to move, unable to stop. The feel of her, the impossibly wonderful feel of her; the way she clenched around him. The remarkable way she was so attuned to his every move, the responsive pleasure that curled a fire in his belly. The deliciously tight feeling that built and built in his chest. The moment when she started to come and cupped his face, whispered his name, and came undone in his arms. How he couldn’t help but follow her down, the world exploding behind his eyes.

It was only the next morning as he woke with her curled in his arms that he realized that he had not said a single word against it. He had not been able to resist her because the truth was that he hadn’t wanted to. Yet this was not how it was supposed to happen. Theirs was a relationship built upon years of contention. There were times he had wanted her dead. And yet here they were. He couldn’t explain it.

She knew how he was feeling too, asking, “Are you alright?"

He was and yet his mind felt like it was stuck in a loop, cycling through some of the worst moments of their history. The juxtaposition was extreme. But what he was feeling wasn’t regret. He just didn’t know how to resolve the Adalind that was with the woman she was now. Especially as even this, this lying in bed with her curled next to him seemed so strangely normal.

It was reassuring to hear her echo his thoughts, “If someone would have told me…"

His phone rang and they exchanged a glance before he shifted to answer it. It was Trubel and she wanted to come over and talk about a suspect. He explained the call to Adalind and reluctantly disentangled. He went for the shower, leaving her bundled on the bed, a wistful smile curling her mouth.

He hadn’t said it back. The only thing was he was now more confused than before. Where before his answer would have slid towards no, now he wasn't so sure.

As he went through his day and prepared to go, he kept thinking about it and about her. He wasn’t even sure what verb to use for what they had done. They had sex? fucked? made love? None of those were right but that last was probably closer to the truth than he was okay with. He finally settled on the vague slept together even though technically they had been sleeping together for weeks.

Now it was normal to leave her golden and warm in the morning sunshine, holding their son in the mornings. To come home to them in the evening. To call her during the day. Somehow Adalind had become central to his life.

Yet this new development left him reeling. What exactly was she to him? And how did this happen?

It seemed almost impossible for no one to notice that something had happened, that something had changed. Somehow it was normal to talk to his Captain, who was also his son’s half-sister’s father, as though this was just another day. How did no one else see? Especially when all he kept thinking about was her. He could have said no. He could have drawn away. He probably should have but he pushed her down onto the bed instead.

He made it all the way through the night and into the next day until finally he couldn’t take it any longer and he blurted out to Monroe that he had slept with Adalind while they were in Wolfach.

Monroe had been surprised but probably more at his delivery than the revelation. He had quickly recovered however, saying, “It’s not like this was the first time.” But he nailed it when he said that this time was probably very different. This time had been with the mother of his child. And then he reminded Nick that this might be temporary, which was a whole other thing to consider that he frankly had not given much thought to yet. That she might change again. That she could revert back to the way she was before. He felt the beginning of an aching dread that clenched in his throat with Monroe’s next words. “Do you think you love her?"

It was harder to answer than it should have been because he really didn’t know.

Thankfully, he spotted the church and got to shelve that line of thinking, at least for the next few hours.


	2. interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone else been going over all of Nadalind's past interactions? This little interlude was inspired by same and is set shortly before Nick sells his old house and buys the Fome. Anyone got particular scenes or spaces in the storyline where you feel like something was left out? I'm curious as to what their arrangement entailed. I have to think they had some kind of a talk about who would do what/when before actually moving. Adalind seems like a planner to me. I think she would want that. Then again there seems to have been a whole lot of not talking so who knows.
> 
> Also, I am super excited about the 100th episode! Finally we get to find out what these Keys do. Although I kind of wonder why they can seemingly make do with only 5 Keys when there are 7 total.

Nick woke to something, a small gasping sound that he followed through the darkened corridor to their room. Kelly had been born a little over two weeks ago and so far had been a very light sleeper. He thought it might just be Kelly but it was odd and irregular and didn't sound quite normal. Still he moved quietly as he more wanted to investigate than wake anyone up unnecessarily. He peered around the edge of the cracked door inside. It was only as he got closer and saw her curled up on the floor that he realized what was happening.

Adalind was crying, soft helpless sobs that she was trying hard to suppress. Her form was hunched over on itself on the rug, knees on the floor, her face hidden as she peered through the slates of Kelly’s crib. One hand was braced on the edge, the other raised to her mouth. She was staring at the baby with a wide eyed look of wonder and something almost like regret. Nick had withdrawn, seeing there was no reason to intervene and thinking that she would probably not welcome him either.

But he kept wondering why she had been so upset. For all he knew this was something that happened regularly. Maybe hormones? He doubted it though. Her eyes had been puffy the next morning, which was uncommon so it could not have been a regular occurrence.

It was maybe a week later that he finally realized why she had been so upset. Adalind and Rosalee were talking in the den while he went to the kitchen when she let slip a comment to Rosalee that Kelly was already older than Dianna had been when she was taken from her. It was then that he realized that the night he had found her crying was about how old Dianna had been when they took her away from Adalind.

It was an unexpectedly sharp realization.

Now having held his son, loving and caring for him every day since he was born, he couldn’t imagine ever being parted from him. It was a physical ache to think of him being taken away from him, unknowing if he was okay or when he would be able to see him again. It made him freeze what he was doing and brace himself on the counter. There was a catch in his heart as he thought about the loss of someone who had so suddenly become so terribly dear. It was unthinkable.

It was different now that he was a parent. He knew that he had never had this reaction before. Before he had his son, there had been an appreciation that losing a child would be a terrible thing. But now, now it was a very different feeling. The wrenching sense of loss that gripped him was visceral in the extreme.

It was different now.

He’s no longer sure he would have made the same choice about handing Diana over to the Resistance.

At the time he had justified it as a way to keep the baby safe. He had considered Adalind to be as much as danger to Diana as any other threat and honestly had not given much thought to what it would do to Adalind. He supposed he had figured she would just get over it. He definitely had not expected her to come to him for help.

There had even been a moment when he had considered talking to her about Diana and how the Resistance had her and not the Royals but Renard had discouraged him from doing so. Yet it was that mistaken belief and their underestimation of her that had led to Adalind concocting the spell that had made him no longer a Grimm and thrown her back in with the Royals. It had also created Kelly.

Kelly was not something he could regret. Kelly was the only family he had left anymore. His son, precious to him beyond words, the only good thing to come out of all of this mess. Yet, his creation was impossible without all the destruction that came before it. Without Kelly, he didn’t know what he would be doing. Kelly was the only reason he was holding it together now.

It seemed that his only recourse was to put the past behind him, as difficult as that seemed.

He glanced around the corner to the den and saw Kelly on a blanket on the floor next to Adalind as she gazed down at him. Rosalee sat leaning against the couch nearby.

He sighed. He had been trying to make Adalind feel welcome. He was under no illusions; he knew that they were a packaged deal. While Nick could not bear to be parted from his son, he also knew he could not take care of Kelly all by himself. Frankly, he needed Adalind to make sure that Kelly was taken care of on a daily basis.

He was coming to a new understanding about Adalind. He hadn’t realized that she was actually afraid of him. That she must have thought herself in terrible danger to have come to him in the first place. That she had anyway spoke to a degree of bravery, which was not a word he ever thought he would associate with Adalind. Yet she had arranged to meet him through Renard at a police station when she knew perfectly well where he and his friends lived meant that she felt that she needed witnesses and at least one person who would not turn on her immediately. He also remembered when he had spoken with her at Bud’s house after the disaster with Juliette and the suppression serum. There had been no mistaking the instinctive fear response she had had to him.

He had been trying to do as she asked and not hate her anymore. It had been easier than he would have thought. Yet, the more he understood her, the more he was able to understand what had been driving her before.

He shook himself out of his thoughts and poured himself another glass of water, picking up a cup of tea for Rosalee and another glass of water for Adalind and carrying them back in the room.

They both looked up as he approached, accepting the glass and cup with thanks. Neither seemed to have missed him while he was gone, preoccupied by the baby as they were. He sat down on the rug and noticed the tension creep up in Adalind as he was now sitting the closest to her, only the length of an arm separating them. He placed his hand on Kelly’s belly and rubbed, watching his focus shift from his mother to his father. He flailed his arms with enthusiasm and kicked his feet. He let loose a shriek tainted with an edge of indignation. Adalind glanced at Nick out of the side of her eye and gestured. He stared back at her blankly. She rolled her eyes a little and unfolded a blanket and wrapped Kelly in it.

“Here,” she said and handed Kelly over to him. She and Rosalee then shared a glance.

He stared back at her then down at his son before it really occurred to him. She had thought Kelly wanted to be picked up. Kelly squirmed and burbled, reaching for him before settling more contentedly before breaking into a huge yawn. Apparently she was right. Nick glanced back at Adalind and she smiled at him briefly with a flash of eye contact. He started to jiggle him and watched Kelly settle.

Rosalee shifted and he glanced back over at her. She said, “I should get going. I’m expecting a new shipment at the Shop this afternoon.” Rosalee glanced between them and she and Adalind stood at the same time. Rosalee placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. He smiled at her.

“Thanks for coming over.” He glanced at Adalind to include her, “We really appreciate it."

Adalind picked up there, “You have no idea how great it is to see you.” They walked into the kitchen and Nick heard the clinking of glasses placed in the sink as they continued to talk. Rosalee shouted out a final farewell that he returned then she was gone. Adalind stayed in the kitchen.

Nick rocked his son for a few more minutes as he got more and more sleepy. He carefully stood up and turned to her footsteps coming closer. She had another glass of water and her phone in hand.

“I can feed him then put him down for a bit.” She reached for him and he handed Kelly over, watching her walk up the stairs.

He glanced around the room, noting anew the conspicuous absence of certain photos and mementos. Nick thought about Juliette and all of the memories they had built here. It somehow made the situation with Adalind worse. Before he knew he was a Grimm, he had spoken with Juliette about getting married and having kids. It was always spoken of in a sort of one-day-in-the-distant-future kind of way but it was something he had thought was in the cards. Then his whole life got upended and somehow he had stopped thinking about it. Stopped thinking so much about what their life was going to be like as he struggled just to keep them together.

Now here he was in a house filled with old memories and a child with a woman who had only ever been his enemy. He thought back to the first time he saw Adalind, which was coincidentally right after he bought Juliette’s engagement ring. He had though her beautiful, it was impossible not to, but he had summed her up as ‘nothing but trouble’ even as he found it hard to look away- at least until she had woged right in front of him.

Maybe Monroe was right and he should sell the place. The housing market in Portland was pretty strong and he lived in a nice neighborhood. It shouldn’t be hard to sell the place. He could probably get a good deal for it. Then he would have to find another place. A place that was safer, with none of the memories that lingered here and preferably without so many neighbors to get caught in the line of fire.

He’d look around a little and then maybe call a real estate agent in the morning just to see what was available.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I probably rewrote this like 6 times. Each time I went over it for edits the characters just started carrying the scene off in a slightly different direction. So turbulent! On the plus side, I have material already written for a few other scenes that I still have planned. :)

It was early morning, the sun just hovering at the edge of the sky. Nick woke slowly, warm and curled in the mattress, sheets tangled around his legs, the air cool on his face. She lay beside him, her blonde hair fanned out on the pillow, limbs lax with sleep. He took a moment to watch, letting his awareness go soft as he drifted in and out of sleep. He was almost back asleep when she started to move, her eyelids fluttering as she twisted. She made a soft sound, distressed and small. He reached out an arm and touched her shoulder, shaking gently.

She startled and flinched, coming awake with a jolt and burrowing backwards into the covers, wide-eyed.

He frowned and leaned closer. "Adalind, it's me," he said and reached for her again. She didn’t respond so he said, “You were having a bad dream."

She froze and then deflated. "Nick, ugh, yeah. Yeah, I was." She rolls so she is sitting propped on one arm and looks over towards Kelly's bassinet.

He saw the direction of her gaze and said, "He's not made a peep." She glanced back towards him and gave him a self-conscious lop-sided smile. She ran a hand through her hair and flopped back down in the bed.

"Sorry I woke you up," she said.

"You didn't." She turned to look at him and raised an eyebrow so he continued, "I had woken just a little while before and was drifting back off when I heard you. I think my cycles are still messed up from Germany." She looked away and pulled the covers back up her waist. He watched her for a moment as she didn't say anything else. “And I wouldn’t have minded if you did wake me,” he added. “Is there something that you're worried about?"

She gave a one shoulder shrug and curled a little more deeply into the covers. “It’s a long list. I’ve just been on edge lately." 

“About anything in particular?" 

She shook her head, “It’s nothing.” 

That wasn’t a no. "It's enough to give you a nightmare." Her lips pursed but she didn't look like she wanted to add anything else. He wasn't sure what else to say when he remembered the night before and her worries then. He made sure he was looking at her when he asked, "Is this about the possibility of your Hexenbiest powers coming back?" 

Her eyes flew up to his and locked, before just as suddenly shifting away. Bingo. "I told you that we would deal with it if and when it came up."

She met his eyes again briefly before quietly replying, "But deal with it how?" She shook her head and pulled away, hunching her shoulders and drawing into herself.

He hesitated and shifted, not sure what more he could say, "How do you want to deal with it?"

"I don't want it anymore. I just want--" and she cut herself off. 

"What?" But she wouldn't say anything. She just lay there and refused to meet his eyes. He didn't like it. He didn't like her like this, shut down and silent. He kept talking, thinking that maybe if he came across the right combination of words she might spill something else. She was frankly worked up about this and he didn't know how to leave it there. 

He was reaching for her before he even made the conscious decision. They were lying side by side aligned on the bed, not touching but close. She had withdrawn into the covers facing down, her forearm angled in front of her face, eyes on the mattress. Her eyes widened in surprise but he was already in front of her, his hand closing around her elbow and gently lowering it. She didn’t resist. He met her eyes and stopped, not really sure how to go on but seeing that he now had her full attention. "I've always known you were a Hexenbiest,” he started.

She interjected, "I took the suppressant, Nick." 

"I know you did, but at the time I didn't know you were going to do that. I probably would have tried to stop you if I had known you were planning on taking it ahead of time."

"But we had to know if it worked. There was no other way."

"It was still a risk. What if something had happened to you? You were pregnant with Kelly, remember? I wouldn't have made that trade."

She frowned and leaned back, caught off guard. "And what would have happened if I hadn’t taken it? You can't tell me you would have just carried on exactly the same if I hadn't taken the suppressant."

He stops frustrated, tempted to tell her just that. He can’t really see a decision that would have been swayed one way or another. Instead he settles on replying, "I can't think of anything I would have done differently."

She jerks back, tugging on his hold on her arm. He lets her go. She glances down between them, and says with her voice heavy with double meaning, "Really?"

He gets what she means immediately and flushes, drawing back, stung in a way he can’t define. She smirks and turns to get out of the bed. He feels a flare of annoyance. He can't let her leave but he also can't just wrench her back. So he says the only thing he can think of that will get her attention, "Do you think the other night only happened because you’re not a Hexenbiest anymore? Because I can’t remember that being a consideration."

He can see that he surprised her but she shakes it off fast. She grabs her robe off the chair by the bed and stops to look back at him, hair bunched around the collar and eyes intense. Her voice is thick with disdain, "Easy to say, Nick.” She glances down at Kelly and walks out of the room. 

He shoves the sheets off and follows her, not sure where this is coming from. He is thankfully still wearing his sleep shirt and pants so at least he doesn’t have to struggle to find clothes as he chases her out of the bedroom. He can’t believe they are even doing this right now but she is being so frustrating. Yet this is an impossible place to leave things. He’s lucky they woke up early but he certainly wasn’t expecting to have a fight first thing in the morning. Especially when things have been relatively peaceful. Awkward yes, but without any drama. He catches up with her in the kitchen as she is prepping the coffee maker. 

“Why are you being like this?” he starts. She gives him a blue-eyed look of disbelief, looking him up from head to toe. 

She raises an eyebrow and says, tartly, “Um, you were just trying to tell me that you, Mr. Grimm, would sleep with a Hexenbiest. ” 

Her eyes are spitting disdain and he just as suddenly finds that he is no longer lost in this conversation. He advances on her and sees her eyes widen but she holds her ground. He says, “No, that is not what I said.” The air feels charged between them and he remembers, remembers what it is like to stand so close to her in confrontation. 

She rolls her eyes but he can see that her brittle shell is crumbling. She is flushed, her pulse racing in her neck. She is being affected by his proximity, uncertain but holding her ground. There is something bothering her and he thinks about the things she has been worried about lately. This is coming from somewhere. 

He studies her profile and remembers the other thing she said while they were talking about her Hexenbiest powers reemerging. He had thought it a ridiculous kind of thing to say, that she must have been kidding, but now he wonders. She does tend to worry and has occasionally come up with some extreme ideas that she had nevertheless taken seriously. And their history was definitely… violent. He finally says, “I’m definitely not going to try to…” and he has to pause because he does think it sounds kind of absurd to even say given everything but well- “um, kill you or throw you out or anything. I wouldn’t do that to you, Hexenbiest or not." 

She stops what she is doing and stares at her hands for a moment, before visibly relaxing. She sighs and sounds resigned, "I know you wouldn’t, Nick. I- I know that sounds a little over the top, but given everything, you know, that has come before...” She trails off and gives a little shrug. He feels himself relaxing too, the adrenaline fading, tinged with a bite of relief. 

She resumes making the coffee and after a moment says, “I just don’t feel comfortable with the way things are.” He raises an eyebrow, surprised. She hastens to add, “I mean the part where I have to rely on you for everything. I don’t like feeling so dependent. Like I said, you’ve been great, but it is not easy for me to accept.” 

He nods and remembers a conversation they had weeks ago now. "Are you still thinking you want to go back to work soon?” 

Her mouth purses, “Maybe not for a little while yet but yes." 

He sidles up next to her at the counter and she pushes a cup of coffee over to him. It is heavy on the cream and light on sugar, made just the way he likes it. They have spent so long in such close proximity. He leans closer and she makes space for him, like she is aware of him and respecting the boundaries they keep between them and not like she is scared or intimidated by him. Whatever worries she says that she is feeling, it doesn’t seem like she has a real visceral fear of him. He couldn’t imagine how she could, but she did mention it. 

She looks at him curiously as he has gotten rather close to her. They accidentally lock eyes and the tension which had all but dissipated between them ratchets up again. Only now it slides into something else. 

Now would be the time to step away but he can’t. 

He sees her expression change, the dawning realization. And even though he has never put this into words before, it seems suddenly ridiculous that he had never realized himself. He sways towards her, drawn in despite himself. 

There is a warm, tight sensation that builds in his chest, his head, his feet as if his entire awareness is being pulled and spun into a whipcord that is all directed at her. He feels like he can’t look away as they stay locked together, drifting inward. His eyes drop to her mouth, her lashes lower and just as suddenly they are in motion again. 

They slam into each other and fall against the counter, the motion as sudden and surprising as much as it is invigorating. He feels the edge of the counter biting sharply into his hip, even as he feels her hands on his hips, the nails digging into his skin. His mouth locks with hers and the feel of her is amazing. She smells delicious. He grabs a handful of her hair and uses the handhold to press her tight against him. She moans and he feels it in his bones. She wraps her arms around his shoulders and he takes the cue to hitch her up against him. He hears something shatter and fall to the floor but it is beyond him to care, his entire world narrowing to her face, her body. They somehow end up on the couch, with her sitting astride him. Her robe is missing, his shirt is gone, her nipples are hard and erect, rubbing against him through her shirt. She rears back and looks at him and she is flushed and disheveled and he knows, knows that they shouldn’t be doing this. She reaches in his pants and puts her hand on his dick and he also knows that there is no way he is stopping this. She pulls him out and runs her hand up and down and he groans even as he bucks into her touch. He sweeps her off of him and hears her laugh, a dark chuckle, as he slips his hand in her waistband and pushes her pants down. They kiss as she wriggles loose and he squirms out of his pants. 

This is familiar and yet not. Where last time had been achingly sweet and slow, this time it is rash and full of shape edges, fueled by frustration and sharply checked desire. It feels dangerous in a way that it never has before. He is playing with fire. 

He has never been so eager to burn. 

To see her and feel her and know that he can make her fall apart, that she welcomes him after everything. To feel her and taste her and know that this is everything he has been wanting. It is the simplest thing in the world to keep going. 

He has never had this kind of a response to a woman before. Yet this is his response to her. This has always been his response to her. This wild attraction, even when they had been at odds. It almost didn’t matter what was happening, how things stood between them. He has always felt like this when she was near. He just never had been able to act upon it. But no longer. Now she is here, here and with him, joined together in a way that nothing can separate. 

She falls apart in his arms but it is a struggle, a contest as it seems like she is desperately trying to hold on to something. She lets go in the end and shakes apart and he yields and feels her absorb everything he has to give. It is a long moment before he can bestir himself to move. They remain clasped together, her heart racing against his side. He braces himself so he is not smashing into her and just breathes before lifting up. 

Undone, laid bare without makeup or artifice, she is flushed and smiling. It strikes him again just how beautiful she is. He finds himself staring and she curls into herself, quirking an eyebrow. He looks away, momentarily embarrassed to be caught looking even as he can’t stop smiling. 

He withdraws and she pulls herself up to a sitting position, her hair wild about her shoulders, glinting golden in the sun. The apartment has gotten brighter, the skylights letting in the light. He glances over at the clock and is surprised. There is a small wake of destruction that trails from the kitchen into the sitting area. Not just their clothes, but a bowl flipped over, apples and pears lying scattered, papers and pens sent flying, and a trickle of coffee dripping off the counter to pool onto the floor in a widening puddle. 

He huffs and hears her make an low whistle from behind him. She collapses on her side, looking both comically despairing and so unselfconsciously sexy he finds it hard to look away. She waves him away, “Go get in the shower, you’re going to be late.” He checks the clock again and nods, grabbing his clothes from the floor as he goes. 

This is definitely not where he saw the morning going. 

As he showers, he spends the time thinking about what he should say. Or if he should even say anything at all. 

This feels strangely like a morning after. Only the few times that he had engaged in one night stands, it had never been with the woman who is also his bedmate and mother of his son. 

Adalind saves him from having to initiate anything because she comes in the bathroom first. There is a tub but also a corner shower as well as the sink. They generally take turns using the room but there have been a few instances when they have been in there at the same time. Still, it had never involved nudity and the enclosed space had made for a lot of awkward looks and downturned eyes. But given the events of the morning and the last few days, he doesn’t know whether he is surprised or not when she pulls open the door and joins him in the shower. 

He slides back instinctively to let her in but he doesn’t know how to act. She gives him a considering look but then slides under the water. It is impossible not to watch. She is as gorgeous as ever, lush and defined. A part of him feels like he shouldn’t be watching but she has clearly given him the opportunity. Also this seems a strange time to get modest considering that they did just have sex. Again. 

Yet the unfamiliar situation keeps him off center, a tiny alarm going off in the back of his head as he tries to parse out how this is supposed to go. What he is supposed to do. She has apparently decided to pretend like this is nothing special so he goes along with it and after a few minutes it becomes something workable. They brush occasionally and it is electrifying. But it is the way she looks at him that really gets to him. There is knowledge there, all rolled in with desire and trepidation and something softer in the curve of her mouth. It is a heady combo. 

He finds himself lingering when he is done, waiting for her. She does not put on a show although she must know that he is staying just to watch her. It feels like an admission, like he is loosing ground to her but the look she gives him is worth it. The look is unsure but hopeful and he finds himself responding, coming towards her and laying hands on her waist, feels the slick warmth of the water and the silky smoothness of her skin. She exhales against his neck. 

He shuts the shower off and gives her a final squeeze. She pulls back and they let go. They smile at each other, a little shy. He pops the door open and gets her a towel and starts to dry off with his own. 

She hesitates and says, “Do you ever wonder what it might have been like if we had met another way?" 

He lifts both eyebrows and tilts his head in a shrug. "Things would certainly be different." 

She smiles ruefully back, "Yeah, for sure.” She glances out the door and he responds, saying “I think he just woke up but he isn’t fussing yet." 

She nods and bites her lip, looking towards the bedroom. He has had an ear out for Kelly and while it sounds like he is starting to wake, he has not yet started to fuss. They probably have another 10 mins at most, which means he needs to leave in the next half an hour. 

She nods and leaves, towel still wrapped around her midsection. 

He rushes through the rest of his routine, defaulting to a clean Henley and jeans, stuffing his keys and phone in his pockets, clipping his badge to his belt buckle. He yanks on his jacket and turns and she is standing behind him with a cup of coffee in a to go cup in one hand and Kelly sleepily yawning into her other shoulder. He smiles at the sight and takes the mug of coffee, leaning over to rest a hand on Kelly’s head and kiss his temple. He leans over and gives her a kiss on the cheek too and she starts and blinks and he realizes that he has never done that before. He looks away and pulls back but she grabs him by the jacket and stuffs a granola bar in his pocket. He smiles, still feeling awkward and she smiles and drags him in to her to plant a kiss deliberately across his mouth. 

He looks down and steps away, picking his bag off the floor. As he goes to close the elevator door, he looks back at her and sees her gently smiling, swaying Kelly and he feels an internal halt as everything comes into focus for one shining moment. He exhales and shuts the door.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel so annoyed with the lack of progress with figuring out what exactly the stick/stake thing does. It's like you were so excited about finding it, it's this artifact that has been missing for centuries and it just gets kind of shelved? So here is a little bit about what I would like to see happening with the show on that front. 
> 
> Also- anyone know how detectives arrange time off? Like do they get weekends? Or just every x number of days off for a set amount of time? Does that change when there is an active case?
> 
> Not beta read, all mistakes are my own.

It's a light day, mostly involving paperwork to shut their last case and some follow-up from previous cases. He and Hank get lunch at a new place that serves New Orleans style fried oyster po-boys. It is easy enough to stay focused on the moment. To feel the cool air cutting across the collar of his jacket even with the collar turned up, the grey light of another overcast day making the inhabitants of Portland wonder yet again if it is appropriate or not to wear sunglasses. They have to stand in line at the store but the line moves quickly and they pass the time talking, Hank telling him about a new girl he got set up with by his cousin.

He has never really gotten into the chitchatting type of conversation where guys talk about their girlfriends, it always feeling too personal. He has always been focused on work and getting things done. It was one of the easy things about working with Hank in that he didn’t seem to mind if Nick didn’t want to reciprocate. Given his current situation of living with Adalind and Hank’s previous history with her, he is thankful that the absence of that kind of conversation is not so noticeable.

Yet he still finds that his thoughts drift back to the events of the morning. Things are so different now. It helps that their precinct is a busy one where it is easy to keep focused on work. The entire precinct is still abuzz with speculation about Dixon's assassination. Hank and Wu and the captain especially have been getting lots of slaps on the back and congratulations. Yet still there is a lot of surprise that something like this would've happened in Portland. Sure, Portland is known for being weird but a laid-back kind of weird, not political-mystery-assassination of mayoral candidates kind of weird. This isn't House of Cards.

In the hubbub, his own distraction goes unnoticed, even by Hank. At least until after work ends and he goes to the Spice Shop with Wu and Hank.

They drive separately so that everyone can head home afterwards, all the vehicles lining up in the alley behind the Shop. Nick gets there after Wu to see him and Monroe gathered around the table, with the wooden artifact under a magnifying glass. The large glass lens encased in brass looks familiar, probably one he has seen at Monroe’s house before. The light gathers in the glass and concentrates, shining brightly at the oblique.

Wu glances over at him and nods but Monroe continues to study it. “Hey, dude,” he says without turning. “I gotta say this this looks pretty unremarkable, even up close. It’s got like dirt on it and stuff, totally non-special looking. Like I’m pretty sure I could toss this into my garage and have a hard time picking it out again.”

Nick shrugs, “It’s not like it matters what it looks like, just what it does."

Monroe shrugs but continues to look unimpressed. “Just makes me wonder how they even figured out what it did in the first place."

Rosalee comes around the corner with a stack of Grimm books. “So far we haven’t found any references to anything like it in the books.” She hands one to Wu and another to him. “But here, you can look through these in the meantime."

Wu starts flipping through the book she hands him. He looks up from the back pages, “It sure would be nice if these things had an index. Or an appendix with pictures."

Nick quirks a smile at him and pages through the book Rosalee handed him. He skims it for drawings and then checks the contents only to find that there are none, either ripped out or never made in the first place. He fingers the ragged edge of where pages used to be. This is one of the remains of the original books from the trailer. Some of the pages look vaguely familiar but the patina of soot and ash on it is not.

He wanders over to the table and pulls up a stool.

Monroe asks, “Where’s Hank anyway? I thought he was bringing the camera?"

“Yeah, he had to go pick up some more stuff first, but he should be here in a few.” The front door rattles right on cue and he gets up. “That’s probably him.”

He walks to the front of the shop and lets Hank in, helping him with the bags he is carrying. Wu pokes his head out from the back. “Did you bring the camera?"

Hank grins, “I did. One of my ex-wives went through a photography stage. Spent a small fortune on a bunch of lenses and I don’t even know what. She agreed to loan me the equipment but if I break anything she is gonna kill me."

He gingerly starts to unpack the supplies. Monroe raises anveyebrow and picks up one of the lens cases, inspecting the equipment. “This is some nice stuff! What did you tell her you needed it for?"

“I told her it was for a case. We’d probably get better pics if she were taking the pictures but it didn’t seem worth the risk of sharing.” He looks over to Nick, “You owe me, man. She made me do a tutorial before she would let me leave with these."

Nick raises an eyebrow and huffs a laugh. “Which one was this again? The second?"

“Yeah, named Darcy.” He looks around at the group. “And trust me, we were much better as friends. She went through a pretty long artistic phase. I don’t think she uses this stuff anymore but she’s got another husband and a kid and I think she uses it for family portraits and the like.” He shrugs and looks at Wu.

“You bring that imaging software and your computer?"

Wu nods, “Yeah, though it might take a while to process depending on the images we get."

They set up the lights, bringing in some lamps from upstairs to get the best lighting. They snap some pictures of the stick to document it. 

Monroe remarks, “I feel like I should be wearing gloves, handling this."

Wu says, “As long as we have pictures of it, it won’t matter what you do to it.” Hank points at him and nods in agreement while Monroe continues to look scandalized.

“Dude, this thing is like hundreds of years old, you gotta have some respect for the Stick at least."

Wu raises an eyebrow, “You should probably try to call it something else then because ‘the Stick’ does not have that much of a ring to it."

Rosalee adds, “Don't forget it probably saved his life.” Wu shrugs, letting it go.

Hank looks over towards Monroe and Rosalee, “There aren’t like vampire-wesen, right?"

Monroe and Nick exchange a glance. Monroe replies, “There are these bat-like Wesen called Murcielagos but they don’t drink blood and stakes aren't really a thing with them.” Nick nods. Hank looks at over Wu and they both raise their eyebrows.

Hanks continues, “You've seen ‘em then?"

“Remember Spencer Harris and Lucinda Jarvis?"

Hanks eyebrows go up, “You mean he wasn’t kidding about killing with his voice?” Nick grimaces shakes his head no. “Aw, man, I thought he was trying to play the crazy card.” He huffs.

“Freaky,” adds Wu. “But I thought you guys would get in a lot of trouble if you ever told the truth,” he says and points at Rosalee and Monroe.

Nick interjects, “He didn’t woge though and nobody believed him. Remember Trubel before she came? She just got shuttled around to different psych hospitals.”

“Huh,” Wu says and shrugs, “Wonder how often that happens?"

Hank shakes his head, “Hard to know.” He looks like he almost has the camera equipment together. Wu puts the book down and starts up his computer. They start checking memory cards and setting up files.

The rest of them roll out the cloth. There are already a few tears in the fabric and delicate as it is, it is hard to get it to lay flat. Rosalee brings down some bolts and large stones to weigh down the corners, trying to avoid anything that looks like text.

Hank has the camera set up and flips the strap over his shoulder as he starts to snap pictures of the cloth. The camera has a digital readout and he looks at the pictures as he is taking them. “You know, I’m not sure that I can really make out much from this. The lettering is so indistinct.” Nick peers over his shoulder and frowns, “Well, that is what the imaging software is supposed to help with.” They all exchange glances but there is nothing else to say yet.

Rosalee adds, “Monroe and I will keep trying to research what kind of language this would be and how we can translate it.”

Monroe nods in agreement. “The problem being really that we can’t even see what it says it is so faint."

Nick nods, knowing this will have to do for now. He turns away and flips through the books for a bit longer until Rosalee comes up next to him, “What did you tell Adalind when you got back?"

He glances over to her and thinks that Monroe has probably already told her that they slept together and he wonders if she is going to ask him about it. He would really rather avoid the topic. He shrugs, “I just said that we found the catacomb and a bunch of bones. She thought that it might be a waste of time even before we left."

“How did she take that?"

He considers, “She didn’t seem really bothered. Just said she was glad we made it back."

Rosalee nods and then looks like she might say something else. He looks towards Monroe to see if he is paying attention but he is poring over the images coming off the camera, taping his glasses on the screen to illustrate a point.

Nick calls out, “You guys having any luck over there?"

Wu says, “We’re getting some nice images but there is still so much that has decayed.”

Nicks nods and adds, “I was thinking that I would take this stuff back with me tonight. I have a place to hide these that I think would be perfect."

They all turn to look at him, stopping what they are doing. Monroe and Rosalee glance at each other. Hank says, “Are you thinking you want to make sure that not everything is in the same place?"

Nick nods. “I think it would be good to hide the Keys here but I wanted to take the artifact, cloth, and box with me."

Wu says, “Where are you going to put it?"

Nick nods, “Remember that dumbwaiter looking door at the loft? Well, it opens up to a Shanghai type tunnel system.” There are a few nods but still some skepticism present, “The walls in there are brick and have some loose spots in the mortar. There are a few places like that in there that would work as a hiding place. And nobody else knows about it except Adalind and she never goes in there."

Rosalee looks around and asks, “Are you going to tell Adalind about it?"

Nick looks down, uncomfortable. He shakes his head, “No, she doesn’t need to know. I’m still not comfortable spreading this any farther.” There are emphatic nods at this. Nick adds, “I can just wait until she goes to sleep and put it down there then."

Hank says, “Well, alright man, if you think that would work."

“It will,” Nick says.

There is still some hesitation but everyone seems to agree that it would be better to spread things around as the Shop is probably one of the first places someone would look.

Wu speaks up, “I think we can maybe just go over this one more time with some lower lighting and then we should be good to go. I’ll see what I can do with the images but it might take a little while."

Nick nods and glances at the clock, having known in advance that this would take a while.


	5. Chapter 5

Nick rarely gets home early, usually staying late or getting held up with Grimm-related business. Tonight is no different although it sounds more like Grimm work. She makes something simple for dinner- a Greek salad with baked chicken and lots of lemon. She leaves his salad undressed and wrapped in the fridge; it is an unfortunately frequent occurrence. She eats while picking up the loft, not bothering to sit down because she doesn’t see the point. She feels annoyed by his absence and annoyed at herself for feeling that way in the first place.

She can’t believe how domestic she has gotten. She had never seen her seen herself as being particularly domestic or maternal.

Adalind is not sure how she pictured this whole settling down and having a kid thing going but it wasn’t like this. Granted Kelly was about as far from planned as you could imagine.

Yet here she was in an uneasy alliance with the man she used to consider an enemy for the purposes of raising one small boy. The father of her child is a Grimm and a cop, and she is dependent upon him for everything she has, as nothing here is her own. And somehow it seems to work, as precarious a balance as it seems at times. He had tried and she had tried and now they have this safe space between them in which to raise their son and make things work. So finding out that her Hexenbiest nature was no longer suppressed was the last thing she could have wanted.

She was relieved to hear what he had to say about her Hexenbiest nature returning. But this means that now things will have to change again. Now they will have to learn each other anew, and just as things were getting better and getting settled. She's afraid that if she tells him, things will go backwards. And the thought of that is a hard thing for her to bear when every time she sees him she wants to be closer.

She had never intended on falling in love, least of all with Nick Burkhardt.

Adalind keeps thinking that if they can just get a moment to themselves to talk for just a few minutes then she will get up the courage to tell him. But that moment never comes. He either gets a call from his work, or a call for his Grimm work, or Kelly needs attention. It doesn't help that he is rarely around and when he is, he tends to want to disappear into that tunnel under the loft.

She's afraid that she will not have a choice when it is time to tell him. He will find out on accident or someone else will tell him. And then he will lose all trust in her. But she has to do this right, it is too important to leave to chance or blurt out over dinner.

She snaps out of her thoughts when Kelly lets loose a loud shriek. Kelly is laying on the blanket on the floor. He is rolling around, occasionally wriggling himself into the tripod position as he tries to sit up. His toys are scattered around him, brightly colored and shaped into animals and boats with rattles and crinkly plastic and squeaky pieces hidden inside. He no longer hates tummy time, probably because he is strong enough now to hold himself up from being face planted into the rug. He is noticeable more mobile, if still a little unsteady with sitting.

He's also starting to look sleepy, eyes glazed and staring off into the distance. She holds a toy in front of him and he focuses on her briefly before showing her his shiny gums in a huge smile. He burbles out happily after and she responds in kind.

Sometimes they can have an entire conversation that is completely devoid of any recognizable words but with many of the dips and rises present in normal speech. She scoops him up and tickles his tummy before she hears the faint rattle of the outer door opening. She puts him on her hip and walks over to the monitor. It is Nick, home at last. He looks tired. She glances at the clock and sees that it is almost Kelly's bedtime.

She feels her chest and thinks that is time for him to nurse or for her to pump again. Kelly loves breastmilk but will only nurse before he goes to sleep, the rest of the time he demands a bottle. Nick will probably only get a brief snuggle before it is time for this little boy to go to bed.

Adalind always has a brief moment when he is coming up the elevator where she wonders what she should be doing and where she should be standing. She settles for continuing to walk around the apartment gently jiggling Kelly to help him get sleepy. He is already dressed in his pajamas and his diaper is miraculously still dry.

As soon as the door slides open he looks towards her and their eyes meet. He looks down almost immediately and she feels the first twinge of discord. She smiles but he hesitates before smiling back, the expression looking tight and not reaching his eyes.

“Hey," he says and sets his bag down by the door. It looks stuffed to capacity and makes a faint clunk as he puts it down. “How is Kelly?" he asks.

She turns so he can see Kelly's face, can see the drowsy look on his face. “He's been good today,” she says. “He is getting better at sitting up but he is getting tired, I was trying to settle him in for sleep."

Nick nods and walks up to them with his hands out. She hands Kelly over and notices how he avoids contact with her, glossing over her face and focusing solely on Kelly. He snuggles Kelly up and kisses him on the cheek and only then with the baby between them does he look directly at her and smile with his head tucked close to the baby. It is clear there will not be a kiss hello.

She remembers how he left that morning and it is clear that he does as well. It was the first time he had kissed her goodbye and she remembers it with a warm glow. But now that is gone and she feels cold and unnerved.

She steps back and offers, "Are you hungry?"

“A little, yeah, but I can get it.”

"I made extra earlier,” she says and walks into the kitchen to get his dinner from the fridge, mostly so she can turn away from him and focus on something else. It hurts a little because it feels like a step back from this morning. At times it seems the only way that they make progress forward is when they fight or disagree. She doesn't know what that says about them.

She brings him the food and takes the baby back. Nick looks resigned as she takes Kelly away but glances at the clock knowingly. Give it another half an hour and Kelly will really start to fuss.

She takes him into the bedroom and nurses him, then carries him around on her shoulder until he goes limp with sleep. She transfers him into his crib, settling his blanket and stuffed fox around him.

Nick is done eating by now and walks up behind her to peer over her shoulder at the baby. She glances over at him, trying to gauge his mood now and he notices right away. They lock eyes for only a moment before he glances down again and shifts subtly away. She wonders if now would be a good time to tell him but his retreat after this morning hurts and she can't bring herself to widen the gap any further.

He has already cleaned up the kitchen and turned off some of the lights. She walks in the bathroom and closes the door, and sits on the closed lid of the toilet. There is so little privacy here. She puts her head in her hands and sighs before rubbing her face.

She wonders if there's anything she could have done that would have made that turn out differently. There have been a few times since he returned from Germany where she has pushed at that distance and gotten a brief moment of the contact she craves. She finds herself left waiting for a hug, a smile, or even just a look sometimes. However, even when he does give in, the contact tends toward the brief and perfunctory and sometimes leaves her feeling worse than before.

It is moments like this morning that make her heart sing and yet here she is crashing back to earth once more.

From this morning it is plain that she had an effect on him. Adalind has always known that Nick was attracted to her physically. That had been obvious from their first interaction, from the first time he saw her. She flushes as she remembers what was only just this morning, the sweet desperate ache she had felt to have him inside her. How good it had felt to feel his hands on her, his mouth on her. Her Powers had gotten away from her briefly, causing destruction in far flung regions of the loft. Thankfully, he had not noticed it and had been in too much of a hurry to depart for work. 

She sighs and gets up to get ready for bed. His toothbrush is wet, a face towel hanging nearby is damp. He'd already been in here and gotten ready himself.

She realizes she's forgotten to get her pajamas before going into the bathroom. On her way back to the bedroom, she notices that the lights are off and his bag is now resting on the table. She pauses, glancing down. It's not often that he leaves it there and something about the way it is arranged looks so deliberate. She glances towards the bedroom but he is nowhere in sight. Remembering the thump she heard earlier when he had sat his bag down, she places her hands on the outside and feels a solid box underneath.

She hears him moving around and withdraws quickly, walking into the bedroom over to her dresser. She nonchalantly strips and changes into her pajamas. She can see him watching out of the corner of her eye, but when she glances over at him, he quickly looks away.

Adalind isn't terribly tired but it is clear that he wants to go to bed. She glances at the clock and looks at him. 

He says, “I’m beat. I was hoping to go to bed a little earlier tonight."

She nods and wonders if this is a way to get around any potential awkwardness. She says, “That’s fine with me. I was wanting to get up a little earlier tomorrow anyway."

He nods and they tuck in but it is several long moments before she manages to drift off.

She awakens to her phone alarm going off under her pillow. It is an extra hour before she normally rises but she was wanting to get a little more time to herself before Kelly woke.

She glances at Nick and sees that he is still asleep, sprawled out on his back with one hand across his chest. Sometimes when she wakes before him, she wishes she dared to scoot that little bit closer so that she can pretend that they rolled together in their sleep. But it seems that both of them are very polite sleepers.

Her slippers are under the bed, her robe up on its hook. The light is still grey and the air is cool and crisp. Kelly is sleeping solidly, making tiny wuffling sounds. She gets the coffee going and starts the computer and gets out her pumping supplies.

She wants to see what she can find out about her old law firm, if there's anyone new listed on the website. She also checks other listings for contract type legal jobs in Portland. The subtle whoosh of her pump is familiar but otherwise the loft is silent.

The results of her search are pleasing. It does seem as though her old law firm is running a little short on help, especially of the Wesen variety. Her firm had always been Wesen heavy, with Berman having a particular preference for Hexenbiests. Right now, it looks like the firm is particularly short on her kind. She has not yet been able to do a full woge, but she can tell that it will not be long until she can. Berman will no doubt have heard rumors about what happened to her, so Adalind judges it likely he will want to see a full woge.

She sees that one of the other women she used to work with, who is also Wesen, is still there. She sends her an email requesting a coffee date so she can get a feel for how things are in the office now. She needs a better idea of what she has to work with before she approaches them directly. Adalind has no idea what they might have heard about her.

Task done, she gets up to put her milk in the fridge and clean up the pump parts. As she passes into the kitchen, she sees Nick’s bag on the table. It is in the same position as last night but something about it looks different now. Curiosity piqued, she places her milk in the fridge before coming back and peering at Nick still sleeping in the bed. His bag is noticeably softer and missing the large lump that had felt like a box before. She glances around the loft confused, but she knows what she felt and whatever it was is now missing.

It seems she's not the only one keeping secrets.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter basically runs through 5x14.

Adalind is early. She can’t help it, having been thinking about this almost nonstop since first agreeing to meet. Plus, the last thing she wants is for Sean to see her struggling to get a stroller through a crowded restaurant. She is at enough of a disadvantage as it is. She makes sure that she is there early enough to be there first and make sure she gets a good table so that she can leave easily too if required.

It is some stereotypical Portland brunch eatery. There are organic berries with mascarpone and chia seed pudding and vanilla bourbon butter French toast as main courses. A creative mix of fruit and vegetable juices serve as accompaniment in all the colors of the rainbow. She flips through the menu distractedly while trying not to fidget, feeling terribly tempted by a Bloody Mary.

She remembers getting brunch with friends back before Nick’s Aunt Marie came to Portland. Serena and she had had a monthly brunch date full of mimosas and noncommittal flirting with the wait staff. It seems like forever ago now. Serena had been one of the other Hexenbiests she had worked with who was killed by that Mellifer queen bee. Nick had shot the queen in the end but it had almost been Adalind instead.

Adalind tries to keep thinking about this meeting as humoring Sean, but the bait he is dangling is too tempting for her not to bite. And the bastard knows it. That knowledge sticks in her craw, especially as he is the reason they are stuck not knowing where Diana is in the first place. She is willing to listen but also prepared to leave early depending on how Sean acts. She ends up glad she came prepared.

His form is easily recognizable. She had really used to like the breadth of his shoulders and how he could loom over her even in heels. Now, she finds it annoying to have to look up so high. Sean is as handsome as ever, but she finds him wanting in comparison. There is too much artifice in him, too much positioning and deception for her to ever really trust in him again.

He pretends to be concerned, to be offering her information. But she knows him too well. The real question is how long he has been sitting on this information and what he wants now. Sean has never been the type to offer up something like this without wanting something in return.

She doubts something so essential to his personality has changed.

Nick has changed her perspective on so many things. Nick and Kelly and Diana.

He likely has kept this information close to his chest. The recent increase in exposure for his cousin Victor now makes a little more sense. If Victor traded Diana for the throne, he is now the Crown Prince in all but name, effectively cutting Sean out. It is also a relief that Diana is not with the Royals now and if she was indeed traded for the throne, then her long-term chances of evading Royal infringement have just drastically increased. So while this is good news, it is also no where near what she wants to hear. She wants to see her daughter, and this does not actually bring her any closer.

He successfully manages to piss her off enough that she has a power leak. He takes it in stride but is quick to assimilate the knowledge in his approach. It is really quite brilliant of him and might have worked if she wasn’t already too familiar with how he maneuvered.

This meeting was basically just a way for Sean to dangle the carrot and try to sow some discord between her and Nick. It is unfortunate that he now has something to hang over her as well. At least until she realizes that in a way that now they are almost even. She doubts he has told anyone else about this, including Nick so she has that information to help even things out.

It is not enough to hold her secret but it tempers things. And it is equally plain that he is going to ask something of her but that he is not quite ready yet. He is testing the waters.

This was just the first step.

The one benefit to him knowing about her Hexenbiest status is that she can at least threaten him and have him know that it has some bite to it.

She makes it to the car and straps Kelly in. He smiles at her and she brushes a kiss across his cheek. Her boy is so sweet, but she is now more afraid for the future than ever. This easy time they have had together, that Nick gave them as mother and child is now shrinking.

Adalind drives away from the restaurant but has to pull over once she has gotten a few blocks away. She needed to think but she didn’t want Sean to find her sitting in the parking lot when he left. Whatever it is that Sean wants from her, it likely is better for him if there is a wedge between her and Nick or else he wouldn't have been so persistent in trying to warn her off. Of course, if he had ever really been concerned for her, it was rather late in the game to be expressing it. But then again he didn’t want anything from her then.

She suddenly feels so alone. She has had this time to gather her strength, gather her courage, but soon, soon it will all crest and she will need to be prepared for when everything will fall down. There is too little trust and too much at stake. She will have to create an island of space for herself, for her son and her daughter because she is no longer sure where she should place herself, where it is safe for her to be.

Nick has been hiding things as well. Maybe it explains why he has seemed so preoccupied lately, so focused on that tunnel when he is home and so reluctant to engage in anything other than surface conversations with her. The polite but distant cordiality has really started to grate on her.

Yet there is too much coincidence here.

It is not unlikely that Black Claw is involved somehow. And she now finds herself questioning Nick’s report that they didn’t find anything when they went to Germany. For such an initially fraught undertaking with so much excitement, he has seemed remarkably blasé about it having been a failed adventure.

Which means that it was actually a success and he and Monroe found something but didn’t feel that it was safe to tell her. Whatever it was might have been in that box the other night. What is he doing? Sneaking around in the middle of the night to hide it? He must be. His preoccupation with the tunnel lately makes that the obvious hiding place for whatever it is. Not that she really wants to know badly enough to go scrounging around down there.

Nick. She sighs and starts the car again. She doesn’t know what to do about their whole situation, but she knows she doesn’t want to give him up. Yet, with the situation the way it is now, she is beginning to wonder if it will ever become more tenable. They are at a stalemate right now, which is not a safe place to be with the danger they are regularly in. She’s not sure how to make it work especially when he is determined to fight it at every turn.

***

It had been a long evening trying to wrap up the case. He wishes that things had ended differently with the lycanthrope. It had been one of the more unsatisfying endings because she really hadn’t had a choice with what happened during the full moon.

She is still awake when he gets home. He was expecting that Kelly would be asleep, but Adalind doesn't always stay up late waiting for him especially recently.

She's wearing a loose white blouse with a cardigan over it with pale gray pants. She's not wearing any shoes and her toes are painted a pale blue. She is on the computer with a cup of tea next to her. She turns when he comes in and catches his eye, her mouth quirking at the corner. He puts his bag on the floor and take his coat off, laying it over a chair as he walks towards her. It looks like she was typing an email when he got home and she hits send as he gets close. In the background, there is a screen full of what looks like job listings.

He raises an eyebrow and gestures at her screen. She shrugs and says, "I was looking at job postings. It looks like the job market in Portland is pretty tight, like everything else here right now. But you remember that friend from work I ran into weeks ago now? It looks like my old firm is one of the few that has openings."

He nods in remembrance and says, “Not that I was able to check out all of the employees, but I couldn't help but notice that several of them were Hexenbiests. Was that a coincidence?"

She nods, “Yes, it is a majority Wesen law firm. One that particularly likes Hexenbiests."

“Ah,” he says and rests a hip on the table next to her. “Would that be a problem considering how things are now?”

She bites her lip and looks away, staring back at the screen before darting one more quick look up at him. She gives an equivocal shake of her head and says dryly, “I’d like to think that wasn’t a problem, but I’m going to meet with someone who still works there and figure out how things are now.” She smiles archly, “It’ll give me a better idea of the work available and what kind of salary I could expect. I would be able to get a job at another firm but trying here first would make the most sense. Anywhere else I applied would want to know why I hadn't."

He studies her face and thinks that she is not quite happy about going back but also resolute in her decision. Kelly is almost six months old now and it doesn’t seem an unreasonable time. He also knows that she considers it important for her own peace of mind. He asks, “What would you want to do about Kelly? And when exactly do you think you will return?"

She glances into the bedroom and sighs. "I wish I didn't have to leave him. But coincidentally my old firm also has in office childcare. So it is probably the most convenient from that standpoint as well. I’m thinking of trying to start in a couple weeks."

He takes that in and glances towards Kelly, “How was he today?"

She smiles, “Good. I think he might be getting closer to crawling. He's been trying to get up on all fours lately.” She glances back at him and adds dryly, “Which you would know about if you could make it home one night this week before 9."

He grimaces and shifts away. “I’d love to, but work has been really busy lately."

She relents, “I know. It would just be nice to see you a little more.”

He gets up and goes to get a beer from the fridge. She calls to him as he walks away, “I left you some dinner in the fridge."

He opens the door and sees a bowl of pasta bolognese wrapped for him. He glances back at her and remembers how she had told him once that it was a specialty of hers. He wonders if she had put more effort into dinner tonight. He unwraps it and puts it in the microwave and goes to get out a fork when he notices a bottle of red wine on the counter, tucked to the side. He looks at Adalind and then at his beer before going and put it back unopened. He grabs the wine bottle and considers before grabbing two wine glasses and a bottle opener and going back to the table. He places them down next to her and she darts a glance over at him before coming to rest on the wine bottle. Her shoulders tighten and she draws her hands in together, a faint flush coming up her neck. It is rare for her to comment on the hours he works. That and the faint hint of embarrassment makes him think she put in a little more effort tonight. He wished he understood why, or rather what her motivations were.

“Was this supposed to go with dinner tonight?” he asks.

She tries to shrug it off, “It’s a nice bottle of wine, goes well with the sauce."

“You didn’t have any.”

She cuts him a look, “I’m not about to start drinking by myself."

He shrugs and goes to uncork it. “Then have some with me."

She gives him another look but takes the glass. He smiles and turns away to get his food and a fork. When he comes back, he sees that she has closed the computer and taken the first sip. She looks reverent and is holding the sip in her mouth with her eyes closed.

He sits back down and says teasingly, “I thought you were familiar with this one."

She sighs, “Last year’s vintage.” She flicks the glass and says, “It is hard to find time to drink with all of this” and she gestures at her chest, “going on.” She smiles into the glass.

He smiles and takes a sip himself. It is good, full bodied and dark. But his stomach rumbles and he has to switch over to eating the pasta. It is also delicious and he tells her so, watching as she gives him a small smile back before saying with a little swagger, “I told you I made a mean bolognese.”

The wine is good, the food is good and she keeps him entertained with little stories about things that Kelly did. She shows him some photos she took of Kelly today and sends them to his phone. It is nice to listen to her talk as it is plain that she adores their son. She lights up and gestures as she talks, easily becoming animated as she does impersonations to illustrate the stories.

He had meant it to be more of an apology, an offering to let her know that he appreciated her taking care of Kelly when he cannot. He lets down his guard and finds himself lulled into the moment. He pours her more wine over her protests because he can see that she is enjoying it and wine the second day is never as good.

But theirs is a relationship built on fragile boundaries.

It slips sometime after he finishes eating and they are into the second glass. She is laughing as she tells him a story about Kelly and she looks so happy and warm that he reaches out to touch her without realizing. He grabs her arm, which she had used to cover her face as she laughed and pulls it away. Her laughter trickles off and she blinks at his hand. He goes to let go but she covers his hand with hers, lacing their fingertips. He freezes and looks at her as she stares back at him. She is searching his face, her expression open, unguarded. The ground is suddenly very shaky under his feet.

He breaks contact, pulling away and she lets go.

Nick scoots his chair back from the table and recorks the bottle of wine. There is still a little left but he thinks it is probably better to keep as much of his head as possible at this point. He tries to get himself back together. They keep getting drawn close together but it is not something he is comfortable with yet. He knows this but a part of him is in denial.

Adalind sighs and pushes back from the table as well. She gets up to walk away and he allows himself to watch, but then she stops and says half-turned. “Nick, I don’t want to push you. But given the way things are, the danger our lives are in on a continual basis, what would you regret more? Giving it a try? Or keeping it at this stalemate?” She finally looks up to meet his gaze and says, “You know how I feel about you. I’m not taking that back.” She drops her gaze and shifts, moving away from him.

This time he watches her go because there is nothing else he can do.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Still not in 5x15 yet but that is coming up soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. I just moved and my in-laws are in town so time to work on this has been pretty scarce. Plus side is this is one of the longer chapters! It took me forever to get things to line up in a way that made sense. Also, I am trying to get as much writing done as soon as possible though because just as a forewarning, June is not going to be a big posting month because I am going to be slammed IRL.

He thought about what she said the rest of the night and into the morning. She left him alone with it but did not relent. Yes or no, she was apparently no longer content with the way things have been. 

Nick has felt that because of their past, because of their tenuous truce and her dependence on him, he had to resist, that he shouldn’t want her, that he needed to hold this fragile truce between them. He has been afraid that if they began a relationship in truth and it did not work out, they might not be able to find their way back to this uneasy peace. Yet, when he is near her, when she looks at him just so, he forgets; all of his carefully crafted reasons and good intentions disappear like smoke in the wind.

He can’t deny that she has an effect on him, that he gets a little… confused around her sometimes. He shakes his head; confused isn’t the right word. He knew that sometimes he did things or said things or looked where he shouldn’t. He was sending her mixed signals and he knew it. He just couldn’t stop. He was attracted to her and had been since the first moment he saw her. To have her so close and available and not want her was impossible. It was embarrassing how much he wanted her at times.

Just thinking about it brought up a conflicting series of emotions. 

Especially when Adalind had made it perfectly clear that she wanted him too. They slept together every night side by side in the same bed. She had wanted him close and he hadn’t objected. And looking back on it- on the layout he had chosen for the loft, the large single bedroom, the strange single twin posted by the door- he wondered if this hadn’t been what he wanted from the beginning. Wondered if she had made the offer because she felt obligated. Did that make it okay that he had accepted it knowing full well that he was really agreeing to allowing their arrangement to slide from platonic to something more. Or is this what he had really wanted all along but had repressed it? He didn’t know. It was all so tangled up inside.

The problem was that now he knew how she felt in his arms. He knew the press of her mouth, her smell, her soft skin, the sounds she made, the exquisite ache he had felt when she offered herself to him. 

It was too late to take that back, and if he was honest with himself, he had no regrets on that account.

Which begged the question of what was his problem? Where did he see this going? Was this something they would continue with indefinitely? In so many ways he didn’t feel comfortable with the situation being anything other than what it was.

However, she was planning on going back to work soon. She will soon be employed again and her reliance on him lessened dramatically. She could then technically move out, but Nick knew that he didn't want that to occur either. He didn't want her to go and more tellingly, he did not like the idea of what her life would be like outside of his sphere. Because if she were to move out and they could somehow cobble together an amenable custody situation with their son, that would also mean she would move on to someone else. And he did not like that idea at all. 

It was a stalemate. She had a point.

Nick thought of her as she was in the morning, warm with sleep, adorably grouchy and fixated on coffee. There has only been the one morning before he left for Germany when he woke up and found her snuggled up to him, hair tickling his neck and arm around his waist. It was a really good memory and it had been insanely easy, so easy to slip into this next step of intimacy with her. He wished that this had all occurred under different circumstances, better circumstances.

It still amazed him that she had told him she loved him. A part of him had hoped that she would take it back, would chalk it up as a mistake or desperation to keep him near, but she had not. Instead she had brought it up again and told him she had no regrets. 

And now it was time to make a choice.

***

Nick is heading out the door when he runs into Wu.

Wu pulls him aside, “Hey, I wanted to update you on the pictures we took the other night."

“Oh, did you have any luck?"

Wu grimaces and shakes his head, “It doesn’t matter what kind of program I try to run on it, nothing comes up.” He shakes his head, “It’s weird though. I thought it was a problem with the programming but I’ve tried everything I can think of. And there was even a corner of the cloth where I felt the lettering stood out particularly well that I was going to use to start but it doesn’t look anything like I remember from when we took the shots."

That is weird. He frowns and hesitates. They both remember how the box was opened. Nick asks anyway, “You think there is something more going on with why we can’t read it?"

Wu raises his eyebrows and purses his lips, “Yeah, I do."

Nick glances around, “You tell Hank?” He shakes his head. “Can you let him know. I’ll call Monroe and Rosalee to let them know and see what they can find out."

Wu nods in agreement, “Are you heading out early?"

Nick smiles, “Yeah, I need some baby time. I’ve barely seen my son in days when he has not been asleep."

“Gotcha,” Wu says and heads back inside. 

****

It is drizzling on his way home. The sky is overcast, the light grey with bolts of sunshine bursting through. It's on the earlier side for him to come home, a rarity of late. He shuts off the windshield wipers as he pulls into the garage before killing the engine. He gets his things and for the first time in what feels like days, he doesn't worry about waking the baby as he takes the elevator up. 

They both turn to look at him as he comes in. Kelly shrieks and claps his hands, reaching for him with chubby fingers. Nick catches the surprise on her face when she glances at the clock after he comes in. This is the earliest he has been home in weeks. 

She is pleased to see him though, her expression lighting up before he sees her remember and take it down a notch, her smile dimming as she looks away. He feels a twinge at that and thinks again that he has left it long enough. Tonight they will talk. His gaze lingers over her profile watching as she stares down at Kelly, the tightness around her eyes present even as she smiles down at their baby.

Adalind says, "I think somebody missed his daddy."

Nick drops his things by the door and takes off his jacket before walking over to scoop the little munchkin up. Kelly makes another happy gurgle and reaches for his face, grabbing at his nose. Nick smiles, disentangling the fingers and planting a kiss on his forehead. He nestles his son in the cradle of his arm and rocks him around.

Adalind gets up from the floor and watches them with a fond look on her face. She sneaks another glance at them out of the corner of her eye before walking into the kitchen. There is a pot on the stove and a delicious smell is wafting from it, smelling strongly of vegetables and stewed meat. A bag sits on the counter and she pulls out some greens and a loaf of bread from within.

He walks over to see what she's doing and Kelly makes to grab for one of the spoons on the counter. He disentangles it from his hands and gives him one of his rattles instead. Kelly seems okay with the exchange but still eyes the spoon with the rattle stuffed in his mouth. 

“Do you need help with anything?" he asks.

She shakes her head no and gestures with the bread knife. “No, I've got this. I think our little man is in need of some Detective Man Dad Time.” She looks up for only the barest amount even while speaking to him. It makes him hesitate, but Kelly quickly wrests his attention back and he realizes this conversation will have to be shelved for a while yet.

Nick backs away and goes back down to the floor where Kelly's toys are spread out on a blanket. His son does seem awfully excited to see him and it is probably because Nick has been working so much lately. He sighs and runs his fingers over Kelly's soft hair, enjoying his baby's easy enthusiasm.

They have a beef barley soup for dinner with arugula salad and toasted bread. Adalind smashes up some of the vegetables into a paste and puts them down in front of Kelly. Kelly looks tickled at being allowed to sit at the table instead of being relegated to his bouncer. He doesn't seem to know what to make of the food in front of him. He pokes at it like any other toy and occasionally gets a bite into his mouth. His expressions are comical and soon he has bits of smashed carrot and tomato all over his face. 

Nick and Adalind share a smile over his antics and he feels a warm glow. It continues to drizzle outside, the raindrops making fat pinging sounds on the overhead windows as the sky darkens to black but inside it is safe and warm, the tension between them briefly suspended. Nick gives Kelly a bath after dinner, finding bits of food in creases he didn't know he had. 

Adalind walks up while he is bathing Kelly and leans against the counter. “It’s nice to have you home so early."

He replies, “It’s nice to be home,” and gives her a little smile. She smiles back in turn but it looks more reflexive than genuine. He gives her a considering look, noting the slight hunch to her shoulders, the tightness around her mouth, and thinking about the way she has been a little quiet tonight despite the lovely atmosphere. 

He reaches out a hand to her and sees her freeze, the move subtle but he can feel the fine hairs on her arm standing to attention. He stops and feels the sting of regret like a bitter taste in the back of his mouth.

Nick sighs and runs his thumb along the delicate skin of her wrist. “I’m sorry,” he says and means it. “I was being an idiot the other night."

She doesn’t pretend to not know what he means. She pulls her wrist away but then flips her hand so they are touching with the fingers gently stroking. He looks at her and then laces them together deliberately and holds tight. He stares for a moment at their linked hands and feels a knot of tension spool out from deep within his chest. She is also staring at their interlaced fingers and then looks back up at him. “You’ve been sending me such mixed signals lately that I’m not really sure what is happening from moment to moment. I just wish you could make up your mind,” she says, a bit tart.

He tries not to get defensive. “I know and I’m sorry. It’s just a big change.” Kelly lets out another shriek and kicks, splashing outside the edge. He is getting big for the tub at the sink. They reluctantly disengage but he shifts closer to her. Nick pulls the plug on Kelly's bath tub and gathers his toys; he watches Adalind out of the corner of his eye. She worries her lip but stays beside him, close enough that he can feel her warmth. Adalind hands him Kelly's towel to dry him off and Nick scoops him out of his tub and wraps him up.

“I just feel like sometimes I don’t know what I’m doing,” he adds. “And I don’t mean Kelly.” He hugs his son close, using a corner of the towel to dry his face. He looks back over at her and tries to explain, “This situation is just so reversed. I don’t know how I am supposed to approach this. I mean we have a kid and are living together yet-" he shakes his head, at a loss for how to explain the disconnect. "There is just so much we don’t know about each other. It feels like we skipped to the end when we never even got to really know each other. I just don’t know how to make this seem more normal. Or how to make it work."

She doesn't respond for a moment, but the pause is an easy one. He can see that she is thinking about what to say. He opts to give her the space to consider what he is saying for the moment, choosing instead to lotion Kelly and get him diapered. She hands him one of his little sleep outfits with bears on it.

Adalind shifts and he can see that she has something she wants to say. He finishes dressing Kelly and pops him over his shoulder, rocking him gently and feeling his little hands fiddling with the collar of his shirt. She is looking down at her shoes, her arms loosely crossed in front of her chest. She finally glances up at him and says. "Nick, we don't have to do this. I don't want you to think that we have to have a relationship in order for you to have Kelly here; that you have to try to create some semblance of a family. You don't have to want this. I obviously do, but I won't hold it against you if you don't. I don't want you to feel obligated."

It is somehow not at all what he expected her to say.

He stills and feels like he is seeing her in a way that he wasn't before. It is an incredibly considerate thing for her to say. He looks at her and he sees that her mouth is set, her jaw firm and she is watching him with such an unlikely mix of trepidation and concern but also determination. She is trying to give him an out. He had thought of her before as being a manipulator, a deceiver and he has the brief cynical thought that if this is a manipulation, he can suddenly see the appeal. He wonders if she ever gave anyone an out before, but his instinct says no. He sees that as he holds the pause, she starts to assume that he is thinking about taking her up on it and the disappointment on her face clenches his heart tight. But he can see that she meant it and she half thought he might take her up on it.

He reaches for her and pulls her to his other side so he is bracketed with her on one side and his son on the other. He sees the confusion break out over her face and smiles to let her know it is okay.

It had occurred to him early on that this was a bad idea and he certainly has been ridden with doubt about the timing. It doesn't feel quite right yet but that does not mean that it is unwanted.

She is in turn watching his face and what she sees he doesn't know but the disappointment is gone and has been replaced with a spark of hope. 

"Thank you for that," he says, "but it isn't necessary. This is what I want." He glances again at Kelly, resettling him as he starts to squirm. "It isn't all about him either. I mean, you are wonderful with him. You’ve been great this whole time. And you're not the person you used to be." He smiles, "Although, I feel like none of us are, really, myself included." He pauses for the briefest of moments before offering, "Maybe we should try to start fresh? I mean,” he glances at Kelly, “it’s not like it would be from scratch or anything but we could try?"

She looks uncertain and pulls back a little. Kelly is wriggling for the floor so Nick sets him down on his blanket. She bites her lip and somehow he can tell what it is she wants to say but is stopping herself from asking, so he tells her the answer anyway. “Yes, I’m sure.”

Adalind glances up at him sharply in surprise before an embarrassed flush spreads briefly over her cheeks. She looks pleased though and he smiles and sees it reflected back at him. She says “Okay,” and he can see her shelving it before moving on, saying, “Are you suggesting we try something like dating then?" 

It is his turn to be surprised now; that wasn't what he was thinking. His first thought is to dismiss it as ridiculous because if any two people do not need to go on a super awkward first date it is the two of them. Things are already awkward enough on an almost daily basis. Yet, as he mulls it over he realizes, well, maybe that is part of the problem. They spend so much time together and yet they have never even talked about basic things like birthdays and favorite... things. And yet here they were raising a child together and trying to make this thing work. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea. 

His surprise and reticence must have shown on his face because Adalind instantly starts to back track, hastening to respond, "Or not. But I mean you said you wanted to try to get to know each other better so I just thought maybe you meant--"

He cuts her off before she can get too carried away. "No, I'm not- you caught me off guard. I hadn't really thought of that. But maybe that would be a good idea."

She stops and looks down at Kelly, “I don't really feel comfortable leaving him with anyone yet though."

Nick nods in understanding, knowing how she is still so afraid of losing their son. “He goes to bed early enough, we could just have more dedicated time together after he goes to bed.” She turns so she is looking up at him again and her face looses it's anxious, pinched look. She relaxes and then pauses before giving him another small smile, this one tinged with hope. “I would like that though. Maybe then this would start to feel more normal."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does this seem like a likely scenario? I kept thinking about their interaction in 5x15 and there was an undertone that was thoroughly domestic yet they also got noticeably more comfortable around each other. And suddenly they started talking about their relationship as a real thing instead of a possibility- seems like something must have happened off screen like this.
> 
> Any questions you think they definitely need to discuss? :)


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter is set pre-5x15. Sorry for the delay, RL has been super busy. Good news is next chapter is also mostly written. I just need to edit it but hate do so too soon after I write it.

They get Kelly settled for bed, moving carefully around each other. Adalind keeps thinking ‘Is this really happening?’ She would have been happy with a simple agreement to stop throwing up the brakes every time they get close, so this is a surprise. If nothing else, she can take it as a sign of his interest in continuing things, which is more than she has gotten before. Nick looks as awkward she feels so at least they are on even ground. She hears him rustling around in the kitchen, the faint tinkling of glasses, and she realizes he has poured them each a glass of wine, a white this time and she wonders where it came from.

He hands her a glass with a gaze that doesn’t flinch and she feels it again, that pull towards him that electrifies her skin. They both look away before shuffling over to the couch. She sneaks another glance at him and catches him doing the same. They sit on the sofa facing each other only separated by a little over a foot of space. She settles and lets her eyes trail over him.

It is nice to be given an opportunity to watch him unimpeded. She often feels like she has to have a reason to look at him, a purpose to her gaze, but here he is sitting across from her and she can look her fill. He fits the classic description of tall, dark, and handsome but there is also a steadiness to him that she didn’t appreciate before. He is strong and kind and a defender for the downtrodden, in some ways far too good to be true. 

He is more circumspect as he watches her in turn, an awareness of how this could go settling between them. He finally drops his gaze and asks, “How do you want to start this?”

She raises an eyebrow. She asks drily, “You’re asking me?”

A smile, a little involuntary twitch around his mouth, comes as quickly as it goes. He shrugs using only one shoulder. “It’s been a little while since I went on a first date.”

A number of responses come and go unspoken between them. He winces, clearly understanding that his choice of wording leaves something to be desired. They both look away and make the mutual decision to drop it. She glances around, looking for inspiration before settling on, “I guess we’re really here to talk, so is there anything in particular you want to know?” 

He takes this with a rueful look, but gives her a considering look over the lip. “I can start with an easy one,” he says and reaches for her. They are sitting reasonably close together but it brings him in even closer. He is slow and careful but deliberate and she remains still, allowing him to come close. He parts her hair and traces a finger along her ear before flicking over her earlobe, over her earring before withdrawing. “You always wear these earrings. Do they have a special meaning?” They are ¾ carat diamond studs, a sparkling ivory white. She wears them most days and only even owns a few other pairs. She fingers the familiar studs and replies, “I bought them when I got my first job. My first real paycheck went to these earrings. I still had a mountain of student debt, but” and she shrugs, “I figured I had been saving and scrimping for long enough and it was time to buy something better. A treat for myself.” She smiles.

He nods and asks, “Do you still have student debt?”

One of her eyebrows wings up in a little surprise but she answers readily, “No, I paid that off shortly after I took that job working for the Royals. They may be a bunch of power-mad jerks but they paid really well.” It is an unusual first date-y kind of question but she supposes he might have been worried that she was not paying her loans. 

She also starts easy, “When did you come to Portland?”

“With my aunt, I think I was about 15. We spent all of my high school years here and then I went away to college in Washington and she left for Michigan then Chicago until just a few months before she died when she came back.” He watches her for a moment and she can see that he is building up to tell her something. “She was following you around for part of that time,” he finally adds.

Her mouth quirks, “Yes, I remember. It was all kinds of creepy.” His eyes sparkle and she smiles wider, “You would have been creeped out too if you had a strange woman that had a tendency of beheading people following you around.”

He finally smiles, “Point taken. Did you ever speak to her?”

She decides not to shy away from the elephant in the room, and grimacing says, “You mean before I tried to inject her with a tube of green death?” He nods and she shakes her head, “No, we never talked.” She looks at her lap, “I am sorry for doing that.” She gestures vaguely, “Sean had this idea that she was going to turn you against all Wesen or something.”

He shifts and she can tell that he is edging towards the more difficult questions. He doesn’t disappoint, asking, “Why did you do it?”

She pauses, “It was a favor to Sean at first, a way of proving myself as a Hexenbiest, especially to my mother.” She shakes her head, “I spent so much time trying to not be like her that as soon as I got that I went and turned right back around to trying to please her again.” She takes another sip of wine and looks at him. “She owed a lot of money to various people. Sean promised to pay her debts if I did this and she helped me.” 

He nods but the tiny frown between his brows remains. “I see,” he says. “You had mentioned something to Hank about growing up with your grandparents. Is that true?"

“Well, yes. That part was true. My dad left when I was four and shortly after that I was sent to live with my grandparents in Iowa. My grandfather died a few years later with my grandmother passing when I was about 13 and that’s when I came to live with my mother again in Portland." She continues, offering, “It was kind of a farm, we didn’t really grow anything but it was in the middle of nowhere and there were a lot of animals. There were farms nearby owned by larger farming companies. I think they kept trying to buy the land, but my grandparents liked it because it was private. They had a huge herb garden. It is where I learned about a lot of the Zaubertranke before I had my first woge. My grandmother taught me a lot growing up.” 

She watches him carefully as she says the last and other than a slight widening of his eyes, he doesn’t react. They have mostly avoided talking about her Hexenbiest Powers and heritage, but if they are going to talk about the past and get to really know each other, it is going to come up. She decides to take it as a positive. He should also know from Rosalee’s knowledge base that this information is not exclusive to Hexenbiests; they are merely the best at it. His next question seems to confirm this.

“Did you always know you were a Hexenbiest?” he asks quietly.

She tilts her head. “I guess you could say so. I was never surprised by any of it. My mother and grandparents were always very open about it and used to talk to me about when I might start to manifest. From about the age of ten, my grandmother started to kind of watch for it, but it didn’t really get going until I was maybe 11, 12?”

“How did you find out?” he asks and she remembers what he said about hers being the first woge that he saw the first time they saw each other.

Adalind considers how to explain it, “There are certain Zaubertranke that can only be done by Hexenbiests, either because it requires an infusion or there are steps that must be followed only after certain signs that you can only see when woged. But there is also-“ she thinks about it for a moment, tilting her head so her chin is rest on her palm, “Like a smell? A look? Sometimes it seems like both. It’s a sense that only ‘biests have as far as I can tell, that lets you know what to do and when. Most Wesen are triggered to woge either because they want to or because of stress, but ‘biests will also woge when triggered by specific objects, spells, or potions. My first woge was one of the latter. My grandmother was making a potion- they were her specialty- and it required a woge. She let go for a moment and let me touch the handle and it called to me. She was so proud.” She smiles, remembering before sobering, “The timing was good too because my mother only really gained an interest in me after I started to manifest.” She looks away and taps a brief staccato on her wineglass with the tips of her fingernails. 

He reaches for her, threading his fingers through hers and she blinks to see him so much closer to her now. He is warm and solid and she reaches back, threading a palm into an opening between the buttons of his shirt. He shivers but does not move away, merely waiting and watching her in turn. She pulls back to deposit their wineglasses on the table next to them before curling back close to him. 

She asks, “Did you not know you were a Grimm?”

He shakes his head, a motion she feels more than sees. “No, I had no idea. The first time I even heard the word my Aunt was a mere couple of days from death. I learned most of it from the trailer and Monroe.”

“So I really was the first woge that you saw.”

He nods and hums an agreement. “Yeah, scared the crap out of me.”

She chuckles, “So you said, though I have to say that makes a little more sense now. I still find it hard to believe that you had no idea before that.”

He brushes a hand down her back, the gesture soothing. He exhales sharply at her comment, “Me neither. They say that it takes longer for the male Grimms to show but that was really a late start. I was 27 at the time. I little heads up would have been nice, even if it had just been a warning. I mean what would have happened if my Aunt had died and I just started seeing things?” He shakes his head, “That is how I found Trubel. She had been in and out of psych hospitals, got attacked regularly by Wesen who knew what she was although she had no idea.”

Adalind nods thinking that explained a lot. She adds, “You know she has a bit of a thing for you, right?”

Nick pulls back to look at her as they have slid together on the couch. He frowns and shakes his head in denial. “Nah, she is just grateful and doesn’t really have anyone else.”

Adalind smiles, “There’s a little bit more to it than that.”

He gives her another skeptical look and she smiles. “Don’t sell yourself short.” He glances at her again but there is a considering element to the look. The easy physical contact she was allowing herself to enjoy before now becomes a little charged as she is aware of how close they are sitting together. Her thigh aligned with his, her hand resting on his waist, his arm around her shoulders, and their faces only inches apart. His eyes scan her face before dropping down to her mouth and her lips part in anticipation.

He leans in, spanning those short few inches between them, cupping her jaw and tilting her head before his lips make contact. He is an excellent kisser and she rapidly looses several moments to the feel of his mouth moving against hers. They wind up entwined on the couch, warm and intimate. The press of his body is a welcome weight against her as she feels out the contours of his shoulder muscles, the hard lines of his abdomen, and the slope of his back as it slopes into the delectable curves of his butt. She palms him, pressing him forward against her and he breaks away. He is flushed and turned on, pupils wide and eyes intense. His look is both a question and a challenge. She presses back against him in answer and his eyes drop back to her mouth. She cups his face, kissing him again, a soft and intimate press that says nothing but yes. He responds by deepening the kiss and grinding against her. His hands slide down her waist, caressing her through her pants and slipping along the edge where her shirt rides up. 

But then he jerks away, a sudden wrench that leaves her reeling for a moment. He sits back, braced on his arms over her, and chest heaving. She blinks but nothing changes. He is still flushed, mouth swollen, and looking extremely sexy but he is backing away and shaking his head, “I’m sorry but I can’t.”

She sits up, suddenly angry, “Nick, what are you talking about?” Didn’t he just say that he wanted this?

He stops and sighs, staring at her with regret in his gaze. “I mean I can’t just- I’m not so sure it is a good idea to have sex again.”

She blinks and all she can think is: Why not? The look on her face must be clear enough because he continues, “You- you need me right now in a way that is not quite equal and I- I am really tempted.” He sighs and at least she can see that he really means that, that he is no longer oblivious to his own level of attraction. “And then there is the-“ and he gestures at her vaguely, “the part where you told me-“ he shakes his head.

She closes her eyes and rubs at her face. So this isn’t quite the rejection she was thinking. “You mean the part where I told you I loved you?” she asks quietly.

His eyes widen with surprise and he nods. He finally says, “Yes, that part. You must know that I care for you, but-” and his tone turns apologetic, “I can’t say that I feel the same right now.” She sees the look on his face, so honest and open and full of concern and for the first time she can see that he is, in this way at least, as vulnerable as she.

The anger drains out of her and she sighs. She pulls her legs to her chest and he resettles as well, now leaning back towards her, but sitting once more a solid foot away. She eyes the gap between then ruefully. He sees the direction of her gaze and slides closer so their legs are touching. They are facing each other and she can see that he is being incredibly earnest. “I’m not actually trying to pull away from you, but I am aware that we should proceed cautiously.” He glances down at her again, gaze trailing downward over her, lingering over her mouth and breasts. He looks back up and she sees the desire there, “As much as I would rather not.”

She reaches for the strong line of his jaw, cupping his face. He leans in to the touch, “That is really sweet of you,” she says.

He smiles, “Well, I was raised by a lot of very strong women.”

“I imagine,” she says, thinking about his mother and his aunt, both Grimms with fearsome reputations. She gives some thought to what he says and frowns a little before meeting his gaze again, “You… you have been so good to me, so kind. When I see you with Kelly and when I think about this life you made for us… I don’t want it to end. I am grateful to you. But it is more than that. Gratitude will only get you so far, you know. It won’t get you everything.” She bites her lip, “And… the first time, before you left for Germany…” she trails off.

He finished her line of thought for her, “You were worried about me, afraid that I wouldn’t come back.”

“Yes,” she says and lets it hang and feels a touch of that fear, that one day he might not return, that she would lose him, and it hurts. She would never find someone else like him, not someone as good and brave and strong yet so kind and gentle at the same time. “That is not gratitude speaking,” she says before adding, “I can’t lose you.” 

He reaches for her and she eagerly flows into his arms. He runs a hand down her back and tucks her head under his chin. She can feel the steady rise and fall of his breath and the slow, persistent beat of his heart. “You are wonderful with Kelly,” he starts, “better than I even knew anyone could be. And despite how this came about, I love my son, and I am thankful to you for having him.” She shifts so she can see his face better. From the dark lashes to the perfect line of his nose and jaw she finds him beautiful. He watches her, traces down her face before he says, “But it isn’t just about him. I like having you here. I like this. I don’t want this to end either, but I feel like maybe things are going a little fast, all things considered.”

She purses her lips and says, “Look, I knew that- introducing sex at the time was a little rushed.”

He tenses at that and shakes his head, “I wouldn’t call it a mistake.”

She stops and feels something give way, the relief sharp and unexpected. But she still she allows for equivocation, understanding without saying so that Nick would probably never admit otherwise. It was still a nice thing to say, and she hopes that means he can’t be feeling too badly about it.

She offers, “I am not expecting you to feel the same right now.” He looks up and watches her carefully for a few moments. She looks back, sure that she means what she’s saying. He apparently seems to find what he is looking for because he gives a little nod and follows it with a rueful quirk of his mouth.

Adalind reaches for him again and this time he watches her do it, watches as she unbuttons his shirt and slips her hand beneath the undershirt to feel the smooth skin of his abdomen. His belly twitches as she runs a hand along it and he shifts. “You can take your time on that because I want you to be sure.” She looks at him, “I know you well enough to know that it might take time. But there are some things I don’t want to wait for,” she says and caresses downwards in clear invitation. She can feel the change in his breathing, the goosebumps raising along his skin, and most significantly the way his eyes darken and he does not move away. She leans forward, “I trust you to not take advantage, so know that I am offering now because I want to.” She places a tiny kiss along his jawline moving towards his ear, before dropping a whisper in his ear, “I want you, Nick, in any way I can have you.”

A fine shudder goes through him and his hands come up, come hard around her waist. He moves so he can see her face and she can see that she has him, that this time he will not turn back. She is a little startled when he places his hand at the curve of her neck, where her pulse beats most strongly. He runs his thumb along the fine skin of her neck and then up over her mouth. She kisses the pad of his thumb and sees his eyes soften. He meets her gaze again and the question rests between them: Are you sure?

In response, she parts her lips and takes his thumb into her mouth and lets her tongue slide wetly along his skin. His shoulders relax and she sees the moment he acquiesces. 

She takes his hand then and leads him into the bedroom, feeling his warm presence close behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope this works for you. I was trying to balance the awkwardness with the UST and all their other issues now that they are actually talking. Feedback appreciated!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one proceeds directly after the last chapter, like _right_ after. I had a lot of fun writing it, but it took some wrangling in the editing. Also, that second time was kind of a fun surprise, even to me. ;)

As fixated as he is on her, it is easy to follow in her wake, her hand warm in his. She leads him to the bedroom, stopping by Kelly’s crib and peaking at his sleeping face. The nice and easy rise and fall of his chest is reassuring, his small twitches in sleep familiar. He sees her smiling down at their son but his attention draws her gaze and he catches the tail end of that look, hopelessly affectionate. As he watches, the expression drops away from her mouth but lingers around her eyes. 

A question emerges from the tilt of her head and she runs a thumb over his hand before disentangling and stepping away. She walks over towards the bed and sits on the edge facing him. He is confused for a moment before remembering the content of their last conversation. He looks between them and raises an eyebrow. She gives a little shrug and smile as though to say, _Just humor me_. He is deliberate as he walks towards her and plants himself at her feet. A part of him is tempted to just to spill her backwards and claim her mouth again but he wants to see her, feel her and enjoy every moment.

He leans forward then and covers her mouth with his, feeling the moment she gives way and melts into him. From there it is simple to slide his hands along her skin, to part her clothes and lay her bare before him. Her hands are similarly eager on him and soon they both are naked on the bed. Her legs are long and defined, her breasts large and nipples pink, so exquisitely sensitive she shudders as he laps at the rounded curves, loving the way her fingers tighten in his hair and hold him fast to her. He strokes down her belly and feels her sex, hot against his palm and wet with her moisture. He kisses her again and feels her part around him, slipping a finger into her warmth. Her breath hitches and her legs tighten around him as she grinds against his hand.

He pulls away to watch her and sees her watching him in turn, lashes lowered and eyes intense. Their eyes lock and it only serves to ratchet the sensations up higher and higher to watch her undulating around him. She lunges up, dragging him down to her and they roll together, becoming tangled on the bed. They become increasingly frantic until he finally pins her to the bed and enters her with a groan. She clenches and grinds against him, letting loose a sharp cry and jerking against him. He starts to thrust and she moans, locking her legs around his waist, every bit as frantic as him as she matches him thrust for thrust. He finally lets go of her arms and buries his face in her neck to try to muffle the sounds he is making but she grabs him by the hair and brings his mouth to hers. They kiss with more of a clash of teeth than lips but even that proves to be too much. He breaks away and pants her name, a protest as he tries to halt his orgasm. Adalind lets loose a wail of frustration and pulls him back but he resists, rearing back to look at her. She is sweaty and flushed, a golden beauty far too enticing. He collapses back down on her as she clenches around him, starting to thrust hard and deep again to her enthusiastic encouragement. He gasps her name again, simultaneously both an imprecation and vocalization of astonishment, and comes in a long and intense wave as she milks him and shudders in turn, clawing at his shoulders as she comes almost simultaneously. 

They both lay there for a moment before she huffs a laugh and rubs her face, saying, “Why have we not been doing that again?”

He finds himself wondering the same thing, but he is still getting his breathing under control. In lieu of a reply, he rolls so he can peak at her with one eye and grin. He feels almost stupid with the endorphins so he finally merely shakes his head and says, “I have no idea.”

She snorts and they lay there for a moment longer just recovering while he wonders how on earth it can possibly be so good. He is so relaxed and lethargic he is pretty sure he could go right to sleep. At least until he hears a soft little whimper and cry and she jerks up suddenly next to him, swearing softly and looking for Kelly.

Adalind grabs a robe and scoops up Kelly, still with tantalizing glimpses of smooth skin and long legs on display. She takes him back to the bed and Nick props himself up so he can see them properly. She whispers to their son softly and Nick reaches to stroke his head and adjust his cap. He watches as she feeds him and settles him back to sleep and thinks about how she didn’t used to do that in front of him, instead taking Kelly with her into the next room to feed him. There is something so deeply intimate and precious about watching his son be breastfed by his mother, by the woman he had the most fantastic sex with just moments before.

Finally Kelly settles again and Adalind gets up to transfer him to his crib again. Nick finally rolls out of bed and pulls her with him to the bathroom where they get cleaned up and he catches more than one lingering glance from her down his body. He understands why a bit more when he catches a glimpse of his back in the mirror and is suddenly more cognizant of the stinging sensations from where she had clawed him. 

He meets her sheepish expression in the mirror. She says, "Sorry about that. I think I got a little carried away."

Nick only shakes his head, going to her instead. "It's fine. Well worth it anyway." She quirks a smile at him and continues to look a little embarrassed which finally draws out a smile from him. 

He leans down and kisses her but when he pulls away, he sees that she is still staring at his back, only now at the reflection in the mirror behind him. She bites her lip at being caught and reaches for his back, running her fingers along the scratches, the red welts with just a hint of blood welling beneath the skin of the worst of them. Honestly, he doesn’t mind but he finds her response to them interesting. 

And it is in this moment as he watches her face and she continues to steal looks at his back that he sees she is flushed again, her breathing different and the look on her face has shifted subtly from embarrassment to satisfaction?

He considers the situation for only a second before he slides closer to her, crowding her against the wall. “You like it,” he says and watches as she flushes harder, finally breaking her gaze from his back. The intensity of the look she gives him with widened pupils and mouth parted makes him break out in goosebumps and stirs his dick. 

She flicks her gaze over his shoulder again before they lock eyes once more and the stirring in his groin becomes a throbbing and he comes up fully hard between them. Adalind grabs his dick and he hisses out a breath before gathering her against the wall and wrapping her legs around his waist. She guides him into her and it is easier this time even as the positioning is harder. She is already so turned on and still so wet inside. He watches her face as she alternates between egging him on, grabbing at his butt and clenching around him, and watching in fascination as he fucks her into the wall. She is so uninhibited and gorgeous and he can't get enough, can't stop looking and wanting. She comes suddenly around him, explosively and without warning but he fucks her through it, too caught up trying to get to his own orgasm until she hisses and claws at him again and he shifts, repositioning her so she is not so overstimulated. She relaxes then and hangs on as he keeps going but before long she starts to rock subtly back against him. He hazards a glance over his shoulder and sees what she sees, the two of them light and dark together, her hair a cascade of gold and body languorous as he pumps into her. She fastens her mouth to his jaw and neck and he groans, shuddering, moving to shift her again so he can get more depth, more sensation. She starts to make these high-pitched little groans and he picks up the pace as she starts to arch and clench around him. He grinds against her and she contorts, clasping him to her as she comes again, her contractions finally dragging him over the edge in a wave of sensation that leaves him tingling. 

Adalind reaches for him, kissing his face and running hands down his neck. He closes his eyes and breathes, feeling like he loses several moments to the pounding in his head and the loose feeling in his limbs as he slumps down towards the floor. They disentangle on the way down and she props herself against the wall, but he slides down until he is sitting slumped and boneless on the floor, dick still heavy between his legs. 

He groans and rubs his face and she shoots him a thoroughly satisfied look from the corner of her eye as she straightens up and toddles over to the sink. He lets himself zone out for a second while she cleans up when he remembers one extremely important thing he forgot to talk to her about. 

Aware that this is probably the most awkward time to bring it up, he almost drops it but realizes it is a little too important to pass up. He hedges, “So, I know my timing is really bad for this but we never talked about contraception.”

She lets out a bark of laughter as she stands in front of the sink cleaning up from the second time they have had sex tonight. She turns to face him and says a bit arch, “You’re right, this is not the best time to bring it up.” She turns back to the sink, her back tense.

He rubs his face again and thinks he probably deserved that. Finally he sighs and gets to his feet. “I'm sorry. I know I should have brought this up before-," and he gestures vaguely at the wall and between them. She raises an eyebrow but still doesn't turn back to face him but she is noticeably less stiff. 

He comes up next to her and runs a hand up her side, fingers trailing over softness as he braces her hips with his other hand. She leans into his touch, curving gently into it and exposing the line of her neck. He dips his head and smells her nape, planting a kiss where he sees her pulse throb. 

She relents, rolling her eyes and sighing, before asking, “What would you think if I wasn’t?”

It is moments like these that the weight of their history together settles between them. He is taken aback at the question, although perhaps he should have expected it. He meets her gaze in the mirror and shrugs, because in spite of everything the thought is not as alarming as he would have thought. Not with the way things are between them now. He answers, “I’ve always heard the first one is the hardest to adjust to, so I can think of worse things. But I thought you wanted to go back to work soon.”

She turns around and he can see that he has surprised her. Any number of responses come to mind but the admission lies raw between them, the implications many and varied. He sees her take this in and forgive him before she shrugs and says, “I had them place an IUD at one of my follow-up appointments so that is not a problem for a while.” She darts a glance over at him.

She turns and makes room for him at the sink so he can clean up and slips her robe back on. He can see the tiny frown between her eyebrows so he waits her out. Finally she says, “Would that really not bother you?”

He shrugs self-consciously, thinking of the ribbing and questioning looks he would have gotten if he had knocked her up again so soon, especially considering that they are still in this weird quasi-relationship zone. “A little yes, but-“ and he shrugs again, trying to say, _Life happens and things go on_. At this point, he is just trying to figure out how things might work between them; it’s not like he is going to be interested in anyone else anytime soon. And he loves his son, has been fiercely protective of him ever since before he was born.

He slides a palm up the skin of her belly, feeling for the two little crescents around her bellybutton where she got the tiniest of stretch marks from Kelly. He runs his index finger over one. She lets him, a look of stark vulnerability on her face. He explains, “I wish I could have felt him more before he was born, been there earlier.” He had only felt his son twice, the first in the station when she had first told him and then once more right before she went into labor. They had been firm taps, a staccato beat that shifted and moved, an undeniable proof of life. He wonders what it was like earlier on, the first tiny thrills contrasted with the later, stronger kicks. Could he have felt the differences between hands and feet or a head and back? Now he will never know, not unless they have another one. 

She softens and covers his hand with hers. She whispers, “I wish you had too. I wish I had known…” and again their past fills in the gaps between. He can’t imagine that either of them are under the illusion that that would actually have been possible, that it would have gone well. Yet he also can’t imagine that anything like the relationship they have now would have seemed possible back then either. However, they can both understand the sentiment. She finally shakes her head and meets his eyes with a lopsided smile. She sidles up again and busies herself at the sink before saying haltingly, “Not that I would be against having another-“ she hesitates and then adds hurriedly, “-but maybe not just yet.”

He pauses and they exchange a glance that is uncertain and awkward, with a fragile undercurrent that touches them both. He nods in reply but it leaves him feeling pleased because at least he knows that they are on the same page here. Again, it is one of those moments of cognitive dissonance, where they skip ahead and discuss the future when they are still stuck in the past. It is less jarring than it used to be, but it still makes his head spin.

He sneaks a look at her and catches her doing the same. They smile, awkward but fond, before he looks down and then they drop it by mutual accord.

They finish their ablutions and check on Kelly but he has thankfully slept through this last session. They get into bed and then find themselves once more questioning how they should conduct themselves as how they should sleep becomes an issue again. He runs a hand over her hair and jaw and leans forward to give her another kiss before bed. She melts against him and his hand slides down before settling at her waist. He debates whether he should pull her towards him when he remembers something else he wanted to ask her about.

He watches her and pauses and then slips his hand under her sleep shirt to settle on her stomach. He asks lowly, “So why did you decide to keep him? I definitely wasn’t expecting you to show up eight months pregnant at the precinct like that. But later I started wondering why you kept him at all.” He feels her breathing halt in surprise, and adds trying not to offend her, “Not that I am not glad you did, but I think I kind of assumed that you would’ve chosen to not-- keep him.”

She flushes, understanding the question and also kind of understanding what prompted the question in the first place. She hesitates and says, “I was fairly far along when I found out I was pregnant.” She makes sure to meet his eyes even in the dark to say, “I really, _really_ was not expecting this to happen.”

“I know.”

She looks down, “But after Diana?” She shakes her head, “He’s my son and I loved him from the first. There was never another option for me.” Her mouth quirks, “At least not once I got over the shock anyway.”

Emboldened by the previous interchange, he continues. “Why did you wait until so late to tell me?"

Adalind understands what he is really asking, “You were the only one I could turn to at that point. I knew that this baby was not really of interest to the Royals except as leverage against you. And trust me, I put them off as long as I could but they had me watched all the time. Somehow they found out he was yours. I knew you were probably the only one who could help who would do so with his best interests in mind. So I had to come to you. Kenneth basically told me that he was planning to use me to get Juliette to turn against you. I somehow didn’t think she would though, even with Kelly.” She looks at him, intent and earnest. He doesn’t ask what would have happened if Kenneth would not have forced the issue because he already knows. She likely would not have told him, not for a long while. He would not have known his son. As much as he hates that thought he realizes that having taken one child from her, she would have assumed he would do the same with this one. He sighs and thinks that silver linings come in the strangest of forms. If alternate universes exist, there is one where he never knew about his son and instead of this admittedly strange little family they have going, he instead would not have them at all. He finds this a deeply unnerving thought.

He takes a moment to process that but knows he can’t only ask for information in this kind of an exchange; he also has to offer it. He says, “Things had been difficult for a while between us. I think this was just the final straw for her.” She bites her lip but he reads the question in her shift, “You’re wondering why? Why things were difficult?"

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to."

He sighs and shifts to be more comfortable, “It is not exactly a secret. She didn’t like that I was a Grimm. She didn’t like being involved with all of the late nights and cases gone awry.” He pauses again, “That opportunity you gave me for a normal life that I spoke about before?” He grimaces and shakes his head to cut off her protest that that wasn’t what she had intended, “Juliette was excited about it; she saw it as an opportunity for us to get our lives back. I was the one who couldn’t let go, who wanted to be a Grimm again.” He adds, “And by that point it had been… years since things were really good between us; things were never the same after I became a Grimm.”

He looks away, stuck in the regrets of the past for a moment. She shifts and covers his hand with hers. He glances down and runs his thumb over her fingers. He asks, “Do you remember the first time we saw each other?” She nods. “Well, I had just bought an engagement ring. Like it was literally burning a hole in my pocket."

She gives him such a look of surprise that he smiles but it is more sardonic than amused. She asks, “Did you ask her?”

The quirk of his lips drops and he says, “I did. She turned me down.”

Adalind gives him an incredulous look, “Really?” 

Her response is gratifying, and he finds himself telling her more even as he finds it painful to recall. “She said I was being too distant and keeping things from her.” He sees a slow suspicion seep into her eyes and continues, “This was right before I saw you with Hank.”

She bites her lip and sits up and tries to pull away. He doesn’t let her, holding fast until she stops trying to move away but remains tense beside him. She had told him on that restaurant stairwell that it was hypocritical of him to criticize her involvement with Hank when he was also keeping things from Juliette. He had been trying to ignore that all evening for the sake of keeping the peace while he debated what to do, but almost without even trying Adalind had honed in on the one thing bothering him the most. She had always been so good at getting under his skin. “I see,” she says, but her arm is still tense.

“Yeah,” he says and adds, “So I think it is fair to say that we had our ups and downs, only there had been more of the downs for a while.” He pulls her towards him, her resistance melting away once she understands his intent. She fits easily along his side and relaxes a little, tucked under his arm and resting her head on his chest.

What he doesn’t say, but he thinks she can probably guess, is that her tricking him into sleeping with her had been one of the wedges between him and Juliette. Juliette had always been so incredulous that he had not known that it was not her, that he hadn’t guessed that something was different. But the truth of it was that he had noticed the difference and he had liked it. Granted, he never would have guessed that it was really Adalind who had magicked herself into looking like Juliette because he hadn’t known such a thing was possible. But having been with Adalind and felt that charge between them, the chemistry and almost effortless way they had of communicating that fired their interactions and brought him to a fever pitch in the bedroom… it had been present that day too, if muted and concealed. Then he had been a little too complimentary about it when Juliette realized what had happened and she had held that against him as well. No matter how he apologized or how many times he told her that he loved her, it didn’t erase the knowledge. Add to it the trouble they had went through for him to become a Grimm again, and her then turning into a Hexenbiest and it had been a disaster. 

He sighs and pushes it away. Things are different now and they are moving past it. She shifts and he has to bat a lock of hair out of his face. She glances up at him from drawing patterns into his chest and says, “I am sorry about the part I played in all of that.” He shakes his head and brushes it aside, past the point really where he needs an apology. He gives her a reassuring smile to let her know it is okay and rubs his hand down her side again before saying, "Let's get some sleep."

She hums a sleepy agreement and settles contentedly against him. 

He is just starting to drift off to sleep when she says, “I really enjoyed tonight, Nick.”

He smiles into the darkness and says, “Me too.” He feels her mouth curve against his skin and runs his hand over her hair before drifting off again.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's just say I had a super long month of June and sorry about the wait! 
> 
> This is set pre-5x15, featuring a light morning after as well as a set-up scene for Adalind to go back to work.

He wakes first in that hush before dawn where the world is still and waiting. He stirs and shifts and hears her make a tiny protest as she moves with him. He glances down a little surprised before the night before comes back to him. He settles again and allows himself to enjoy the warmth of having her close and warm and uncomplicated. Her leg is thrown over his, her hand splayed over his chest, breath warm against his side. Her hair tickles his arm and he gathers it to the side, careful not to wake her. 

Nick can hear the rustle of the baby, a yawn and shift and tiny whuffling noises before he settles again. Maybe that is what woke him. He peeks at the clock and sees that he still has another hour before he even needs to think about getting up. He relaxes back into the bed and dozes.

It is two hours before he wakes again.

This sun is high in the sky, flooding the interior with bright light. He peers at the clock and feels a bolt of panic before he realizes that it’s the weekend. He slumps back onto the bed and it is only then that he notices that he is alone. It is unexpected. He glances around but doesn’t see her in the bedroom, nor can he see her anywhere else in the loft from his vantage point in the bedroom. He feels a moment of unease and wonders perhaps it was the sound of the door opening or the garage shutting that woke him, but he doesn’t recall hearing anything like that in the moments of waking. He grabs for his phone on the bedside and rolls out of bed, still trying to rub sleep from his eyes.

Kelly’s bed is also empty.

The loft is oddly quiet. They are not in the living area and they’re not showing up on any of the cameras for the garage. He grabs his phone out of his pocket and goes to dial her number before he hears a thump from the roof. As he focuses his hearing upward he can hear rustling and shuffling and the familiar murmur of her voice. 

He finds some shoes and slips on a shirt before getting himself a cup of coffee and heading up to the roof. It is glaringly bright and he is forced to stop and blink while his eyes adjust to the daylight. She glances up as he swings the door open and smiles at him, carefree and happy. Kelly is in his bouncer with a hat and sunscreen, waving a leaf on a branch and kicking his feet. He lets loose a trill when he spies his father. He walks up to them and runs a hand over his son’s head. He feels silly for worrying but the relief is still a little too strong for him to really mind.

“Hey,” he says.

“Morning,” she replies and she must see something in his tone or posture because she frowns a little. “I thought I would let you sleep a little longer. I know you have been working some long hours lately.”

He nods, “Thanks,” he says but is finding it hard to completely dispel how worried he was when woke up and couldn’t find them. There is also the part where he thinks it would have been nice to wake and have her still be there with him, warm and intertwined. But that is not something he knows how to put into words, at least not in a way that doesn’t sound accusatory.

Adalind is also wearing a sun hat, with her hair pulled back from her face. She is sitting cross-legged on the ground with a small collection of seedlings with gardening tools and pots of various sizes scattered around her. He looks around and suddenly notices that the roof deck is now noticeably greener. He had placed a few tables and chairs upstairs as a place to sit and have coffee in the morning and beer in the evening, but he had not given much thought to the aesthetics. Now there are planters, with flowers and small shoots and evidence that someone has been putting care and attention into the area. He frowns and wonders how he had not noticed this before, until he realizes he has only been out here in the evenings lately and that it has probably been two weeks since the last time he came up here. 

When he glances back at Adalind, he sees her self-conscious shift and easily reads the uncertainty in her posture. “I hope you don’t mind,” she says. “I was looking for something to do during the day, and Kelly likes being outside. 

He doesn’t know why she thinks he would mind. He takes a sip of his coffee and shrugs, “I didn’t know this was something you liked to do.” 

She watches him for another second before replying, “It’s been a long time since I did anything like this, but I used to like it. Admittedly, I liked the results more than the work to get it, but I thought it had been long enough that I would give it another try.”

He nods and comes closer to sit on one of the chairs close to Kelly. “Your grandmother,” he says and she nods pleased that he remembers.

“I kept a small balcony type garden when I first got out of college, but not really anything since.”

He raises an eyebrow and offers, “I don’t suppose your mother kept an herb garden?”

She snorts delicately, “Definitely not. I mean, you met my mother, did she look like a woman who knew how to use a trowel?” They exchange a smile. He wisely does not comment that until this moment, he would have said the same about her.

Instead he offers, “My mother didn’t either. She always said she could kill a cactus, but my Aunt Marie had a number of plants.” He looks at the little egg cartons with seedlings inside but can’t make out her labels. Instead of names there are only letters ‘V’, ‘HB’, ‘T’, ‘Sg’, ‘R’ and the like. He doesn’t ask what they are but figures Rosalee would probably know.

She looks to be finishing up with a flat of the plants so he watches and tickles Kelly gently and yawns around sips of his coffee. It is strange to see her like this but he is coming to realize that perhaps he doesn’t know her as well as he thought.

“You hungry?” She asks and he shrugs.

“Eggs might be nice. I could go pick up some bagels if you want.”

She shrugs, “I was thinking more toast and eggs with bacon.”

He perks up at bacon and she sees it and smiles at him. She scoops up Kelly and hands him the bouncer to take back downstairs. 

They head down and set up the kitchen, getting the bacon going and starting the eggs but he finds her watching him when she thinks he isn’t looking. Finally, he catches her at it and raises an eyebrow. She flushes and turns away so he goes to her, standing close so she will look at him. 

“What?” he asks and she gives him a crooked grimace, trying to pull away. He resists and ends up bracketing her against the counter. She stops and finally looks at him again and it sends something coiling in his gut. She leans in to him, laying hands on his waist and he lets her, feeling the stirrings of desire rising inexorably between them. His eyes drop to her mouth and he watches it part before being pulled in to a kiss that starts off light before deepening with exquisite slowness into an aching and shivering beast. She presses herself full length against him and shivers when she feels the evidence of his desire, grinding against him in delight.

They break away when they hear Kelly protesting his confinement in the high chair, just in time to flip the bacon before it gets too charred. She leaves him to it, fastidious as ever about not touching the bacon; she only gets it for him. He takes some deep breaths and adjusts his pants, seeing her satisfied glance as she notices him doing it. 

He still doesn’t know what was bothering her, but at least she is meeting his eyes again. He puts it aside and they manage to enjoy breakfast together, even while he can’t shake the feeling that he was missing something.

 

*****

Adalind times the meeting for Kelly’s naptime. She gets there early to feed him and take him on a walk around the neighborhood until he falls asleep in his stroller so she can wheel him into the restaurant in relative peace. 

It is one of the more upscale restaurants for the neighborhood, in a small predominantly-Wesen enclave in Portland. Marianne has always been one of the Wesen who prefer her own kind and this area and this restaurant are no exception. There is lots of wood paneling inside and the menu has decidedly earthy notes, with lots of mushrooms, root vegetables, dark meats, and dark sauces brimming with flavor. The Wesen-centric, only available by request menu is not found on any Yelp reviews but is a big draw for the clientele. Tiny herbal arrangements decorate each table, which are covered in copper plating and gleam enticingly under the recessed lighting. Despite it being in the middle of the day, it is surprisingly dark inside. 

Marianne Hsu walks in scarce moments after Adalind wheels in and she looks completely unchanged from the last time she saw her. Marianne is some fifteen years older than her but extremely well-preserved. Her dark hair is glossy and styled into a long bob that delicately skims her collarbones. She has a long, straight nose, dark almond-shaped eyes with a smallish mouth and slightly recessed chin with minimal make-up. She is slender and trim and immaculately groomed completing an overall flattering picture even if she was probably never a great beauty. She looks like she is coming from another meeting, dressed for work in a dark green dress and heels. Adalind is glad that she also dressed up although still on the more comfortable side of office appropriate. 

Marianne is a junior partner and thus senior to Adalind. She was one of the original people involved in hiring her to the firm when she was finishing up her internship there. She had often counted on her for advice but she also knows she will have to tread lightly as she is also staunchly conservative. Luckily for Adalind, she also has a serious weakness for gossip and is more than willing to trade quid pro quo for information.

Marianne favors her with a small kiss on the cheek, saying warmly, “Adalind, it has been ages.”

“Marianne, it is so good to see you.”

“Likewise, my dear. I was surprised to hear from you. As far as we all knew you fell off the map when you took that job in Austria.”

“Yes, it was a whirlwind time then,” she says, “but an opportunity I couldn’t pass up.”

Marianne’s mouth quirks, “Can’t say I blame you.” She glances over to the stroller and Kelly sleeping inside. “Lane mentioned that you had a baby now, is this him? Her?”

“A boy, yes. His name is Kelly.”

“He looks darling,” Marianne says before giving her a considering look and smiling, “Let’s get some food. I am sure we have a lot of catching up to do.” 

They are quickly seated in one of the best seats in the house after the host realizes that he is seating a Hexenbiest and a Blutbad. Marianne’s manner with the host is familiar if reserved and reminds Adalind why she chose to contact Marianne first as she tends to be kind, that is until you got on her bad side. 

She reaches down into the stroller basket and pulls out a gleaming package, carefully wrapped. Marianne’s eyes light up at the sight. She says, “Oh, you shouldn’t have,” when Adalind knows perfectly well that this was entirely expected and that Adalind would in fact have been remiss if she had not brought it.

Marianne carefully unwraps the dark purple paper, its metallic luster glinting at the creases. Inside is a bottle, 2 oz in size made of thick clear glass to better highlight the color of the potion, which exactly matches the paper. It had been one her mother’s recipes and is a potion she has made for Marianne before. The brass of the stopper picks up the light as Marianne turns the potion over in her hands, a bare moment of naked want crossing her face before she quickly guards her expression again. But Adalind has seen what she needs.

_Enticement_ is a potion that only Hexenbiests can make and not even every Hexenbiest as it requires a certain level of skill. Her grandmother taught her well though and this was one of the first potions that Adalind made when she first began to manifest. When applied to the skin it makes the wearer irresistible to the first person they touch and lasts as long as they are in proximity. 

It is the perfect gift.

It demonstrates both that her Powers are back and that she is a worthy ally with much to bring to the table. When Marianne looks up at her again, Adalind meets her gaze squarely and smiles with all the confidence she can muster. It must work because the look Marianne gives her is one of acknowledgement.

They order their meals, Adalind a savory mushroom based salad with pecans and goat cheese and Marianne a glass of wine and onion quiche with beet side salad. They catch up on light matters relating to new requirements for licensing and recent cases that might alter legal precedents, just enough to let Marianne know that Adalind has been keeping abreast of the latest developments. 

Finally, their food arrives and they get down to business.

“The job market has gotten a bit more fierce in Portland but as you know, certain abilities are always in demand. The senior partners were quite upset to lose you. Hexenbiests are hard to find. I know that they have had to turn away several rather lucrative contracts just because they didn’t have the resources. But I understand you want to keep Kelly close?”

When Adalind nods, Marianne continues, “It would be an unconventional request but I think they would allow it but you couldn’t ask for a pay raise in that case. I think you would have to chose. He seems remarkably well behaved but the demands of working full time might be a bit much if you are also not going to utilize any other child care services.”

“I understand I can hire an in-office nanny from one of the back-up child care services that the company has on retainer. I intend to do that from time to time in the office.”

“I think that would be wise and entirely workable then. Ask to come back on your previous salary, put forth some strong work for a few months and then think about asking for the raise.”

Adalind thinks about that and nods. 

Marianne gives her that moment of space and takes to examining Kelly instead. She asks, “Who is his father? You seem remarkably reluctant to speak of him and I can’t but help notice the lack of a ring.” She flexes her fingers at Adalind, the light glinting on her own 3-carat diamond ring. Adalind fights the urge to withdraw her left hand out of sight and to bear the scrutiny with grace.

She goes for nonchalance, even as she feels the familiar roil of emotions that accompany the thought of what the future might bring to her relationship with Nick.

Adalind doesn’t speak until she can be sure her voice will be level, “The situation between us is still complicated. Kelly wasn’t exactly planned.”

Marianne arches an eyebrow, “Is he a Zauberbiest?”

Adalind doesn’t flinch. “No, but he is from our world.” This is code for Wesen, which while not true in the way the phrase is usually intended was still true in actuality. She is definitely not about to say that her baby’s father is a Grimm.

“I see,” Marianne says and Adalind wonders if Marianne will say anything about intermixing but instead she merely adds, “He does seem to be a sweet baby,” and thankfully drops it. 

But Marianne is only switching track to a topic she is likely far more interested in, “I understand that you were actually working for the Royals when you left.” There is no Wesen equivalent of an _Us Weekly_ , so rumors run rampant through the community. Adalind has no doubt Marianne will get a lot of mileage out of this bit of gossip at dinner parties.

“I was yes, through one of their front companies.” She raises an eyebrow, “And with the Crown Prince at the time.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, more contract law as well as my own brand of expertise” and she curls her tongue, making reference to the U that serves to identify Hexenbiests when not woged. “That is until he died in an unfortunate accident and his father took the reins again for a while.”

“Yes, very unfortunate. I hear they are still trying to find the saboteur.”

Adalind shrugs and then shakes her head, “It was professional and I would be surprised if they ever did catch the man who did it.” Adalind was pretty sure it had been Meisner and on Sean’s orders but she is not about to spill those beans.

She waves it away like it is somebody else’s concern and continues, “Anyway, those in succession duked it out for a couple of months and it all kind of got too dramatic for my tastes. Victor was named Prince for a while but he had a hard time meeting the demands of the head of the family. The King sent in this psycho named Kenneth. I left around the time he came on board.” Adalind flashed an entirely insincere smile and said with a flourish, “He was also killed not too long after that and I doubt anyone mourned him.” 

“I heard the King had died.”

Adalind gives the barest of shrugs with only the tilt of her head. She corrected, “He was killed but same difference. It’s why Victor has been getting so much more media coverage lately.”

Marianne raises an eyebrow. “I haven’t heard an announcement about who is now the new head of the family.”

“I don’t think they have settled it out yet. Some contest Victor’s claim for… other reasons.” Marianne waits expectantly but Adalind shakes her head, knowing that she has to keep some things back.

Finally Marianne asks, “And Sean Renard?”

“Too far from the source and too contentious still, I’m afraid. At this point the families would rather scrape something together out of the cousins than let the Royal bastard take the throne.”

“Too bad.” She made a moue of disappointment. Adalind knows that Marianne doesn’t really _know_ Sean but it is more that she does know him and that he is known in their social circles.

Adalind continues, “I wouldn’t worry about him; he always lands on his feet.”

Marianne tries to finagle a few more choice tidbits out of her, but Adalind merely hints and stays mum on some of the juicier bits, knowing that she might have to trade on these for a while longer. But Marianne has gotten more than enough out of this exchange for her to leave happy.

They part on good terms and when Adalind submits her application, she is not at all surprised to be called by HR almost immediately. She sets up her first official interview but realizes she has already passed the most important test.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I had every intention of writing for that cute domestic scene in 5x15... that is until I actually sat down to write it and found that I had nothing further to say. Instead I skipped to 5x16 because I actually had a lot I wanted to write about there. This is one of the larger chapters.

She hears him enter the loft and pause. She has the TV going, a rarity for them, with the first ‘debate’ featuring Sean playing. Nick walks up behind her and stops, watching as well. 

They exchange greetings, but Adalind is only partly paying attention, still wondering what Sean is thinking. She still can’t believe that he is running for mayor. Granted, they are in Portland, where the municipal government is a lot more laid back and he is Captain of the his precinct, but still it is weird. 

She finally says, “I still can’t believe he is running for mayor.” Nick seems to agree so she adds, “I’m not sure he would make a good mayor, you know, considering everything I know about him.”

She can’t help but think about his family, his alliances with the Royal houses, and the back dealing and tithing he receives from the local Wesen community. She sure hopes no one ever runs a financial check on where all of his money is coming from. Some of it is inherited but a lot of it is not. She is sure Sean is more than capable of getting people to cover his tracks for him, but the kind of background checks that can go into running for political office can be extensive. It begs the question of how long he has been planning this.

But then she hears Nick’s reply, “Yeah, that and he is a Zauberbiest.” She freezes for the briefest of moments and does a hard mental abort on any reaction she might want to have to that statement. She responds with a studied nonchalance, “They’re not really known for their altruism.” 

He agrees, “Not really.” 

She shelves the entire thought process for later, where it will be safer to think about more in depth, instead focusing on the question of Sean and what he might be plotting. She remembers their talk of a few weeks ago, remembers how he was angling to drive a wedge between her and Nick, and how he spoke of Diana and the possibility of reclaiming their daughter. He had not mentioned any mayoral ambitions then, but she is positive it was already on his plate. 

She remembers he expressed concern for her out of the blue and thinks something must have triggered it, some plan involving the election? She doesn’t know what that would be. It begs the question of just how interested in her he really is so she asks, “Have you told him where we live?”

Nick’s emphatic no is a relief. But Nick has apparently not written Sean off completely as he admits that he doesn’t always trust him; he must sometimes and he certainly has in the past. She gets up to fiddle with her tea, hoping the movement will give her some space to think, chucking the tea bag in the trash and moving around Nick as he gets a beer out of the fridge.

When Nick asks why she thinks Sean is running, the answer is easy: “More power. Zauberbiests and Hexenbiests find it very appealing.”

“Well, you don’t need to be a witch to want power,” he says.

She agrees, saying, “Probably not”. But that desire is always there with the 'biest, the wish for just a little bit more. She has met very few of her kind who do not feel similarly. Sean, in particular, has always had very obvious designs on the throne. It was different when she was human.

It is a little peculiar that he is seeking an office in Portland when his real desire is half a world away. The rapidity of his launch into the race when he had been backing another candidate before is also strange. He must have some other angle that he is working. It is not like Sean to get side-tracked. She still doesn’t see how Diana fits in with this, but she is almost positive that Diana has something to do with it.

She has been thinking a lot about what Sean told her about Diana’s last known whereabouts, but her own reach at the moment is limited. She asks Nick if he can look in to it and he agrees. She knows Nick has mixed feelings about Diana and what happened with her. He never actually apologized for what he and his friends and Sean did by taking Diana away from her, but he did go after her when Kenneth had her. His mother did take care of Diana. He would have brought her back to Adalind, if she hadn’t been whisked away and then apparently transferred somehow to Meisner. 

Adalind has to figure out a better way to reach Meisner. She is hoping that Nick will ask Meisner himself but she wants to ask him about Diana herself. She hopes he would have a harder time lying to her than he might to Nick, if he does indeed know anything.

There are too many possibilities to consider and Nick catches her abstraction as she thinks. She puts him off, saying merely, “It seems like no matter how badly we want something to work, too many things we can’t control are in the way.”

He softens, reaching for her and pulling her in to a kiss. She is caught a little off guard by his unexpected reassurance, by this seemingly easy affection. This has not been their way, although she can appreciate the difference. It also serves to dispel any lingering questions on his part. 

Truthfully, it has gotten harder and harder for her not to tell Nick about her Hexenbiest Powers returning as her previous desire for transparency loses out over the practical concerns of making sure that if worse comes to worse, she has some kind of an exit strategy. Having her job back will at least provide some measure of financial security, even as she hates lying to him. But she is still so uncertain how he will actually take it, that it seems like too big of a risk at the moment. For this reason, she has also been avoiding Rosalee because she knows Rosalee will ask her about it. At least before, the Powers had only been creeping back little by little. That is no longer the case now. Now she’s capable of a full woge; this is no partial return and no prevarication is possible anymore.

Yet comments like he made tonight make her doubt anew. Is it merely that he now considers her worthy of trust? Adalind as a human woman, the mother of his son? And not Adalind, the former Hexenbiest, whose Powers will one day return? Would he still trust her if he knew she was a Hexenbiest again? What does he see when he looks at her, thinks of her? And what does he think of their son? Kelly is as much a Zauberbiest as Sean. Does that mean that he considers his own son innately untrustworthy? What will this mean for Kelly growing up? It is plain that Nick loves him now, but will this last? Adalind is all too aware of the conditions placed upon affection and love. She knows better than to rely on those bonds alone.

With all of these things on her mind, Adalind retreats into silence and long pauses laden with thoughts unspoken. She tries to keep things relatively normal appearing, but he notices of course. He gives her space about it but shoots her more than one questioning look that she shrugs off. This is not strictly atypical behavior, especially whenever the topic of Diana comes up but it also tends to make him sweet and considerate, all too aware from their time spent together of how affected she was by the loss of her child. There have been too many dark nights and nightmares and anxiety attacks as she worries that she might lose Kelly as well.

He also appears preoccupied and seems to be considering things from a number of angles. This laden peace lasts until bedtime, which is traditionally also the most fraught time for them as they are still negotiating bedtime rituals and how to work in the new addition of semi-regular sex in a way that is not nearly so awkward. 

He seems to be fine with leaving it, sliding into bed smelling warmly of his strong clean scent that reminds her of rosemary and pine. His gaze slides along the curves of her side but he doesn’t touch, doesn’t reach for her. 

It is instead Adalind, seeking the reassurance of touch and the relative relaxation that comes after sex, that has her reaching for him, running a hand along his belly where his shirt rides up. The muscles there twitch, belying his startle as he is clearly caught unawares by her touch. His eyes dart to hers in the darkness, feeling him as he holds his breath as his eyes search hers. She keeps her hand on his belly, sliding around to his back and bringing herself closer. 

It is still strange for her to see him like this, to know that for now he is hers to touch, to caress. They are not on opposite sides anymore. The feel of his eyes on her has always been electrifying, only now she also knows the feel of his hands as he clasps her to him, the changes in his breathing as he becomes aroused, and the feel of his mouth on hers as he gives her the most exquisite kisses, gentle and firm, a question and demand all at once. He really is too attractive of a man to not be touched on a regular basis.

She pulls him to her, over her and feels the delicious warm weight of him as he settles on top, aligning their pelvises together. His hands slide under her slip and freeze as he finds that she is not wearing anything underneath. She feels his warm exhale and he shifts, hands becoming increasingly bold as he caresses her. She lets him feel her reaction to him, squirming in his hands, angling for his hands to touch where she wants. Finally, he reaches her center and feels where she is warm and wet for him. She sighs and arches and feels him let out a breath in response. She can feel him hard against her thigh and slides her leg along him there, finally prompting him to withdraw to remove his pants before he slides back against her, warm and finally skin to skin. They shuck their clothes, loosing them in the bedclothes, warm and close.

He reaches for her, dropping kisses along her jaw and she basks in the affection before turning in his arms, placing her back to him, her rump resting against his pelvis so his dick settles in the warm crevasse in between. His hands palm her eagerly, rushing down to hold her tight to him before sliding upwards to caress her breasts. 

She reaches for him, guiding him inside, loving the way his hands tighten on her, the shift as he rolls over her and starts to move. It is as good as always, the pleasure building in waves as they move together. It intensifies, the heat gathering but needing just a little push. She rocks against him, squeezing, asking for that extra push to send her over the edge and he responds, moving to give her more room, and she slides her hand down to touch her clit, touch the wet, warm place where they are joined, where she can feel him sliding into her. He slows as soon as he feels her touching him, touching them, swearing and shuddering before resuming. She plays with him, with herself as he drives into her until it all becomes too much and she comes gasping his name. He quickens the pace and shifts to short, deep thrusts, his hands tight on her hips, breath warm on her neck. She turns her head to nuzzle against him, clenching and rolling her hips and he comes in a wave, going boneless against her as he grunts out his release.

They disengage and she catches the edge of his expression, the faintly scandalized look he sends her even as he can’t wipe the smile from his face. She grins in return and he shakes his head, breathing hard. She stays close, letting the lethargy steal over her as she luxuriates in the afterglow, nose in his neck and feeling the slow caress of his hand moving up and down her side. Now it is simple to relax in the easy affection, all barriers down and floating on a wave of endorphins. It is moments like these that she can almost forget that anything beyond this bed and this loft exists for them. 

Eventually she starts to feel the pull of sleep and has to forcefully drag herself out of bed. He starts a little as well, before shaking himself loose of the bedclothes and following her. They clean up and she smiles at a clump of his thick hair, sticking out from the side. He catches her look and raises an eyebrow, but she merely reaches out and straightens it for him, falling back into his orbit as he catches her against him. She hangs off his neck and lets him take some of her weight, feeling warm and soft and content. He smiles back and runs his hand down her spine. She shivers at the sensation and his eyes drop to slide along her skin before returning with a sparkle. He moves then, scooping her up and holding her bridal style against him. 

“Nick!” she gasps in response, grabbing at his shoulders.

He only chuckles and looks pleased with himself, elbowing off the light before sweeping her out of the bathroom with surprising grace. He is stronger than he looks. She relaxes minutely, which only serves to amuse him further. He bites his lip on a smile, before saying wryly, “I’m not going to drop you.”

She raises an eyebrow, “You could still trip and fall, step on something… some of Kelly’s toys are probably still on the floor come to think of it…” She peers over his arm and he shakes his head. But by now they have reached the bedroom, where he lays her back down on the sheet with a look that says, _See, you’re fine._

Her lips quirk in tacit acknowledgement but she refuses to say anything, only grabbing him by the hair to pull him down next to her. He comes easily, dragging the blankets back up on the bed to cover them. She settles in her preferred spot, under his arm and over his chest where she can feel his heart beat under her hand. There is one little spot on the left, between his ribs, under and over about an inch from his nipple, where she can almost feel the little press and release of his heart thudding against his ribs. It is reassuring and she finds that place now, sliding her finger back and forth over the top of the rib.

He finally takes hold of her hand and rolls to face her, saying, “What is it?”

She hesitates, not realizing that her worries were so obvious, but he waits her out until finally she says, “I’m fine. It’s just what we were talking about earlier.”

He shifts and says, “I’ll see what I can find out about Diana and keep my ears open about Renard.” He pauses, “Is there anything specific about him running that bothers you?”

She shrugs, “Just that he never does anything without an ulterior motive or three.” She looks towards Kelly’s bassinet and sighs, “I find myself thinking about Diana a lot too. There are so many things that I have missed, that I will never get back. It has been so long since I last saw her. Would I even recognize her if I saw her? How terrible would that be? I’d like to think that I would know her anywhere but I am just not sure. I wish I knew that she was okay.” She glances up at him and sees him watching her, his expression open and full of an understanding that she knows didn’t exist before. She looks away but he only gathers her against him.

He says, “She is very powerful, it seems like she would always stand out for that reason.” 

Adalind nods, “At this point, that is probably going to have to be how I identify her. I got to spend so little time with her, I am not sure who she would resemble more.” She thinks for a moment, remembering what he said earlier about Zauberbiests. “He is her brother too, you know.” She traces the triquetra in the sheet, a fidget she developed as a child. “I don’t know how Kelly will be when he grows up, but he is _my_ son, you know.”

He stirs, “I know.” He pauses, “I know there is a good chance he will be part-Zauberbiest, but as far as I know there hasn’t been another one like him before. So we don’t actually know what he will be like. He might be completely normal.”

She thinks about that for a moment. She doesn’t think it likely he will be normal, she thinks he will be Wesen and probably very similar to Sean. “Do you think that is likely?”

He glances towards Kelly again and lets out a sigh, “No, not really.”

“Would you be okay with that?”

He seems to have expected the question as he doesn’t react, only studying her quietly. She wants to remind him that her Hexenbiest will come back but it feels a little too much like an outright lie now that she has almost completely shaken off the suppressant. But they have spoken of this often enough that he must know what she is saying. He finally says, “My understanding of how the Hexenbiest/Zauberbiest thing works is that it only makes certain predilections stronger, but that there is still a large element of personal choice involved.”

This is basically true. “That is about right, but the thoughts and feelings are strong, stronger than you would think.” She remembers all too well all the horrible things that she did, that she thought, that she almost did do. 

He nods, watching her cautiously. “We will just have to be more careful, more on guard to help him find a way through adolescence if he does end up being more…” he raises an eyebrow and says with a look of uncomfortable realization, “more like Renard.” He looks like he wants to say something else, thoughts flickering behind his brow and mouth working as he looks at her. He runs a hand down her back, rolling a thumb over the dimples on her lower back before gathering her close to him again. “I’m not sure that the alternative is better either.” He sighs. 

She pulls back to look at him. “I can’t imagine he wouldn’t be aware of the Wesen world, not with the two of us as parents.”

“I can’t either. I just want him to feel like he has a choice.”

“I just want him to be healthy and happy. It will probably be a while before we know either way.” 

“Could be both, “ he says. His mood lightens marginally and he smiles, “What did you say before? A Grimmabiest?”

She purses her mouth at the tease. “I’m being serious.”

He looks back at her somberly, giving her his full attention, “I know you are.” He watches her, eyes tracing over her face. He is completely serious when he says, “You know I would never hurt you, right?" 

The words are simple but the feelings they provoke are profound. They hang in the air, taking her breath and all thoughts from her head. She can feel herself tearing up and she doesn’t know why, so she looks away, blinking to clear her vision. He has never said anything like this to her before. But even as she feels a wash of devotion at this show of kindness, her thoughts hang on that one word.

Never is a long time and accompanies a variety of circumstances. Never is a hard expectation to meet. 

He cups her cheek to get her to look at him again and she does, feeling a little more in control. She has to say it; he has to be expecting it. “Even with…?” but trails off. She can’t quite finish it. But the implication is enough. 

He shrugs, saying, “Even then.” 

She doesn’t know what to think, to say to this so she remains silent, waiting.

He continues, “I didn’t take Juliette’s transformation well. I didn’t believe it was even really her at first. I thought it might be-“ and he glances down at her, “well, you. Juliette didn’t like me being a Grimm, I thought there was no way she could possibly want to be a Hexenbiest. She had already figured out that there was not a way to reverse it and was trying to come to terms with it. But I couldn’t make peace with it. I felt horribly guilty because I knew it was my fault… for wanting a different life and dragging her into it. Up until that moment she could have walked away. But because I wanted to be a Grimm again, I got her irrevocably tied up in a world she wanted nothing to do with.”

She shifts, wanting to offer comfort, to apologize once more for her part in it. He blamed her and had told her as much before. She knows that it is still more her fault than it is his. 

But he cuts her off. “I didn’t have to push for it like I did. I’m not saying you weren’t involved but I could have made different choices as well.” He looks down and starts to say, “I-“ before he breaks off, eyes going distant as he looks into a past she did not witness. 

He makes another minute shake of his head and continues, “In the end, Juliette said that she liked being a Hexenbiest, that she liked what she had become, but I didn’t believe her. She had been so vehement for so long that she wanted nothing to do with anything Wesen, that I thought it was just the Hexenbiest making her say that, but I wonder now. I mean, I didn’t want to be a Grimm at first. But now? Now I would fight to keep it. Maybe she felt the same.” He shrugs, “I guess that I will never know now, but she did some horrible things too, like someone possessed.”

Adalind listens, as always, uncomfortable when he mentions Juliette. For as much as she is supposed to be dead, there is still someone walking around in her body even if she goes by a different name now. 

She offers, “It can be like that, but…” and here is the thorny part. Adalind has felt her Hexenbiest nature return and she knows that the urges are still there, still powerful, but nowhere near where they were before. She feels like she has more control now, more than she ever did before. It makes her wonder if maybe it could have been like this all along. She had always thought that there was only so much you could control about the Hexenbiest. It would always win in the end and make you into the worst version of yourself. Now she finds herself doubting what she had always considered an absolute truth. 

Her grandmother had been kind and loving in ways she knew her mother was not capable. Yet they were both Hexenbiests, and had merely found different ways of dealing with it.

However, this is an insight she has gained only recently and due to the return of her Powers. She cannot – yet- tell him how she knows this. She starts again, “But it does take on some of your worst qualities and your darkest thoughts and makes it so these things become easy to do. I remember it was easier to not care, to rein in any sympathy I might have had, and to act with my own self-interests in the forefront. But it was still _me_ , just distorted.”

He nods but then asks, “Do you ever miss it?” She is surprised and looks at him with some incredulity. Nick acknowledges it with a tilt of his head and a quirk of his mouth. “It’s just that it must have been nice to have that kind of power sometimes. I definitely felt the difference when I was no longer a Grimm; it’s why I wanted it back.”

She considers him but knows to tread carefully. She concedes, “Maybe sometimes… when dealing with jerks in traffic or on the street. There is something to knowing you can handle yourself. I have felt more vulnerable as a human.” She shrugs and remembers that asshole that attacked Rosalee and thinks that things definitely would have gone differently if her Powers had not returned when they did. At the very least she probably would have been knocked around… and with Kelly in the Shop? She had never used to worry about defending herself, as even in the Wesen world, there are few that would take on a Hexenbiest without thinking twice about it. 

He nods and gathers her to him, planting a kiss on her forehead, apparently satisfied with the conversation. She too decides to let it subside, but it takes a little while before she is able to stop her thoughts from churning. He has surprised her again with his openness. He really is a Grimm like none she has ever heard of before. 

But she knows there are limits. Things that may seem more palatable in an abstract way may not seem the same when push comes to shove. He might still change his mind. And he may not want to hurt her, but that doesn’t mean there will never be a circumstance or condition where he might feel that he has to anyway. There is always an exception.

She thinks that he must mean it now though, and that is significant. She stares into the darkness and reaches out, feeling out the confines of the loft with her Powers. Nick and Kelly are warm spots of life, energy circuits complete unto themselves. She is still rusty but her Powers are coming back to her. 

She really does need to tell him soon but not just yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I found it strange that Nick would say that about Sean and Zauberbiests when his own son is the same. Maybe he thinks it would be different for his Kelly, but I have to think that would be a discussion that would give Adalind pause. I mean, how are you supposed to offer up that, by the way, those untrustworthy powers are back now?


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I did not forget about this story! RL has been seriously busy with hours like I have rarely pulled in a good long while. I finally decided what I'm going to be doing with my life and it has been a bit of a rollercoaster. One phase of my life is wrapping up even as I am preparing to launch into the next phase. I've got applications due soon but couldn't wait to get this chapter finished up and sent out. Hope you like it!
> 
> Chapter starts with an AU scene then proceeds solidly into 5x17 dealing with Nick talking to Eve and finding out about Adalind.

The precinct is bustling like always, loud and chaotic but with an underlying order not obvious to the outside observer. Wu cuts right through the crowd and makes straight for Nick and Hank.

“Hey guys, you are not going to believe what I came up with.”

Nick and Hank share a glance before turning their attention back to Wu. “Something good? Which crime scene? The kid's house or the beach?”

“Uh, no. This isn’t about the head case.” And then he whips out a light tube as long as his forearm and a spray bottle.

Hank raises an eyebrow, “Isn’t that some of the stuff the techs use? I hope you’re not about to tell me we’ve got a compromised crime scene somewhere.”

“Also no,” he says and then adds, “Here, I will give you a hint. “ Wu then gestures with the light again and mimes spraying the bottle and flashing the light on it. He looks expectantly between them.

Nick looks at him skeptically, “And just to be clear, this is not about the crime scene, right?”

Wu nods, “That’s right.” He looks at them for another moment and then holds up the spray bottle as says a though speaking to a group of children, “This is the solution that the techs use to detect blood particles.” He then lifts the light, “And this is the light they use to see if anything has blood on it because blood covered in this solution lights up under this type of light.”

Nick and Hank exchange another glance and shrug. Hank says, “That’s all well and good but why are you telling us about this now?”

Wu looks at Nick but he is also looking back at him blankly.

Wu gives an annoyed huff and says, “This is for seeing things that are otherwise undetectable as long as they are covered in blood.” He drops his voice, “Things like maybe the cloth that was wrapped around the Stick?”

Both their eyebrows shoot up but this time with a hint of admiration. Nick says, “You think they might have written on it in blood?”

Hank adds speculatively, “That is not the craziest thing I have heard, especially where anything Wesen is concerned. I could see something like that happening.”

Nick concedes the point. “Do you think it would work on something so old, even after all this time?”

Wu smiles, “Only one way to find out.”

Nick nods and calls Monroe and Rosalee. They arrange to get together again later that night in the Spice shop.

They waited until after work when the Spice and Tea shop closed, gathering in the lower level around the work table. Since they had already done something like this before, the set up was much faster. The idea was merely to test it out and see if anything was different. Wu had already taken to spraying the cloth over with fluid in a nice and even coat.

Finally, they got the camera equipment ready, with low light and video recording capabilities set up. Hank shuts off the overhead lights so that only the faint sliver of streetlights from the alley in the rear of the store allows any light to trickle in.

Monroe said, “Here we go, this is the moment of truth.” Wu looks around at them in turn and then lifts the light and flips on the blue light.

It was not what they were expecting.

It is nothing like what they are used to seeing at a crime scene. Normally, the light reveal splatters, droplets, smears of blood but always more distinct, like paint. What they could see here was nothing like that. Whereas under normal lights, the cloth had the appearance of old burlap, like nothing you would look at twice unless you knew better. Now it shimmered and flickered like the surface of a body of water. Faint green phosphorescence was unmistakably present, but it looked like nothing so much as koi in a pond, faint shapes flickering with movement under the shimmering surface. Occasionally one of the shapes would float closer, like the cube in an Eightball except here is very rare to have the entire word resolve. All of them were in Latin. It was unmistakably a mess.

Rosalee started to write like crazy any and all of the words that she could distinguish with Monroe providing back up as they were the ones with the most fluency in the dead language. Wu snapped photos and rapid fire pace and ran through the battery life on his phone taking videos. Hank and Nick helped by looking up terms and googling strings of words to see if any phrases popped up.

None of it was very helpful. The words they were sure of the ones that translated to ‘light’, ‘never’, ‘death’, and ‘return’ with others that looked more like prepositions. The closest thing they got to a phrase only said ‘again and again’. It was more frustrating than enlightening but it was more than they had gotten before.

Monroe finally called it, “This is a mess. There is some kind of magic that makes this almost impossible to read. The effect must be on purpose and for all we know none of what we are seeing is real.”

Hank asked, “You mean like it is purposefully misleading?”

Rosalee added, “But why would they even include it if they didn’t want someone to read it? Maybe it requires something else?”

Nick asked, “You mean like a key?”

Hank added, “Your blood worked in getting the lid off, think it might work for this?”

Wu and Monroe both raised their eyebrows and looked at Nick. Monroe added, “It’s worth a shot.” Wu and Hank exchanged an amused glance.

Rosalee got him a knife and handed it over, “It probably would not take much, just maybe try to get it on one of the words.”

Nick nodded and pricked his middle finger on the tip of the blade. He squeezed his finger until one fat drop beaded on the surface and slid off the tip. It impacted the cloth and was immediately absorbed, the dark red liquid disappearing like it was never there. But that was not the only thing that happened. The faint green outline of words that had existed before, froze and submerged like ships sinking under the waves.

“Woah, that was unexpected,” Monroe chimed in.

Nick frowned and went to try again, but Rosalee grabbed his hand and pulled it back. “I don’t think that would be a good idea to try again. It might be dose responsive.”

Wu spoke up, “Uh, guys, what just happened?”

They turned as one to Rosalee but she threw up her hands, “Your guess is as good as mine here.” She pointed at the cloth, which was now as inert as the table top. “I was not expecting that to happen.”

Nick added, “It was like the opposite of the box. My blood opened the box, but… somehow closed the cloth?”

Monroe went and flipped on the light and they started scrolling through the photos and videos they took. But they ended with only a few more words and no idea what they might have meant. Eventually they had to pack up and call it a night.

Hank clapped Wu on the back as they were leaving, “But hey, it was a good idea man. That cloth is freaky.”

Nick started to walk out with them but caught Rosalee giving him a few significant looks and waived them on ahead. He waited until they left before asking, “What is it?”

She hesitated, “You know that this is not really my area, right? Most of the things I know are from these books.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“What I know is nothing like what someone who grew up in the Craft would know.” She paused a moment to let that sink in, “But we both know someone who does know a lot about these things.”

Nick stared back at her and considered, glancing back over at his bag, with the mysterious cloth once more packed up inside in an unlabeled evidence bag. “You mean Adalind.”

Rosalee nodded cautiously.

Nick looked away. “I haven’t told her about any of this yet.”

“I’m with you there, but do you think you will? Do you think you can?”

“Maybe,” he shook his head, “It’s one thing to trust her with Kelly but I still feel like it’s another issue entirely to trust her with any of this.”

“Well, I’m just thinking that she might have a better idea of just what happened and moreover what that thing is. No one knows Zaubertranke and ancient relics like a Hexenbiest. I am also not sure if she can be told yet, but if anything were to happen, bringing her in would be another possibility.”

Nick nods and looks down, pausing. “I’ll think about it,” he says. Rosalee nods but watches him with an intensity that seems a little unwarranted. “What?” he finally asks.

“Has she…” she starts but then trails off.

“What?”

But Rosalee bites her lip and shakes her head, “Nevermind.”

He frowns but lets it drop and leaves with the plan of placing the cloth back soon. He doesn’t look back as he leaves and misses the look of consternation on Rosalee’s face.

 

***

 

Eve had called earlier that morning, voice tense and urgent and essentially demanded a meeting later that night. He had told Adalind he was working late again and left the precinct to meet Eve, not knowing what to expect or long it would take.

She arrives in what has become her de facto cloud of mystery, dressed all in black and using her otherworldly Powers to open and close the door of the Cruiser without having to touch anything. To be honest, it is still strange for him to see her like this. At least her behavior makes the distinction between Eve and Juliette clear, even though this is the same face and body he used to know so well. But all of their encounters and she, herself, have made it abundantly clear that Juliette is gone and another has come and replaced her.

Eve slides into the seat next to him, coldly immaculate as she drops a bomb on him about Renard working with Black Claw.

The rain continues to beat down outside, the streetlights outside casting strange copper shadows over the entire encounter and evoking an underwater quality. The sense of unreality only increases as she tells him she slept with Rachel to get the information and that Black Claw is planning on insinuating itself into governmental affairs. She is terse and to the point, as though reading from some internal script delivered devoid of any emotion, even as her flair for the dramatic remains intact.

He has scarcely gotten a grip on this information when she rolls the next surprise out on him, this time asking about Adalind. She has rarely ever brought up Adalind and though he assumes that Eve is fully aware of their current living situation and their son, she has not commented on it. Her complete lack of concern regarding his personal life was part of what had made him eventually shed the idea that this is Eve and not Juliette. Yet, he is still wary, remembering how Juliette had tried to come after Adalind and his son before. He’s used to guarding them, to protecting them and part of him still considers the strange woman in front of him a threat to them.

He does not like what she is saying.

At first, he merely wants to brush her off, aware that the Hexenbiest issue has come up between him and Adalind before. He hasn’t had cause to think it would be nearly as disruptive as Eve is now implying. But Adalind has seemed worried about it and he wonders if there isn’t something he is missing. It is also the only time that Eve shows any hint of emotion, actually looking concerned for the brief moment that she explains that the suppressant will wear off and Adalind will change. It almost looks as though she pities him.

It strikes a harsh cord within him that reverberates after she is gone.

Adalind has become his family, whether either of them had intended for this to happen or not. After all they have been through and all that has happened to get them to the place where they are now… he doesn’t know what it would mean if this were to change. What it would mean for Kelly or what it would mean for… them.

He thinks about going home, but he feels like he needs space to think and he is closer to Monroe and Rosalee’s. Adalind isn’t expecting him back anytime soon. The whole meeting had taken perhaps half an hour but as she had demanded a time and place far removed from either home or the end of his day, he had blocked off the entire night. With the way his thoughts are racing, he is in no shape to return home right now so he turns towards his friends’ house, hoping they have some kind of an idea what he can expect and when.

 

***

 

He bursts into their house, a roiling ball of tension without direction or purpose. They welcome him in with a faint hint of alarm but he waves them aside, pacing in front of the living room.

He spits out what Eve told him about Renard, annoyed that he feels like he has to defend her actions. But by this point, his mind has zeroed in on what was most alarming to him and that is what Eve said about Adalind.

He wants to know what he might need to do to prepare, when it might happen because this could completely upend his life.

So it takes him for a loop when instead of giving him a timetable, Rosalee instead asks in a voice he barely recognizes, “She didn’t say anything to you?”

He pauses and bites out a terse, “No, why?”

But Rosalee is turning away from him and sinking down into the couch, every line of her body tinged with reluctance and regret. She sounds hesitant as she says, “Nick, she was supposed to tell you.”

He blinks and the reflexive, “What?” falls from his lips without thought. Dimly, he hears Monroe echo him but his attention is too focused on Rosalee. It is only then that he realizes what she is implying.

Rosalee continues, saying in a small voice, “I told her she had to tell you.” Then he can only listen as the story of their encounter with Tony at the Shop and the reemergence of Adalind’s powers spools out. That it was an accident, that it caught them both off guard but ultimately saved them, that she was scared to tell him, afraid of what he would do, that it happened almost a month ago. He is left with the uncomfortable realization that Adalind’s Powers have already returned and she has not said a word.

This new information leaves him reeling, bewildered and questioning. He feels like he has been left in the lurch. Stupidly, all he can do is affirm that she hasn’t told him and stand there while his friends look on him with pity. He is getting sick of that look.

“That’s probably not a great sign,” Monroe says dryly and were this happening to anyone else, he would have to agree.

But it isn’t happening to anyone else.

This is his life and he had thought that things were going _well_. He can’t help but shake his head in denial, even knowing how this looks.

Rosalee looks on him with compassion before finally saying, “I’m so sorry, Nick, but she is afraid.” And again he finds himself wondering just where this is coming from. She doesn’t act like she is afraid of him, she doesn’t flinch or draw back from him and never turns him away. She told him that she _loved_ him.

But he can’t help but remember that night, that interaction had happened before he left for Germany. Now he feels like he needs to divide their interactions into before and after Germany and for more than one reason. He just… he thought they were past this. Then again, as he has come to realize, he doesn’t actually know her as well as he thought.

Monroe says, somewhat bitingly, “Maybe it is best if we let her keep her secret for now.”

Rosalee echoes this suggestion, saying, “She’s gotta be the one to tell you, otherwise there won’t be any trust at all.”

Nick is open to the suggestion, hoping that perhaps his friends can give him better advice since they have more distance on the situation. He is definitely in no state to think on this logically right now. He is supposed to go home after this but this new perspective on Adalind is leaving him distinctly unmoored.

Monroe says, “Just be careful, dude, seriously,” and it is a perfect echo of his own concerns.

He nods and rubs at his face, knowing there is nothing else to say. He looks around and only notices then the dim lighting and wine glasses set out. He realizes that he had busted in on what was probably a nice evening for them. He feels a brief tinge of embarrassment and apologizes immediately, but they brush it aside, telling him he can stop by whenever he needs. He feels touched to have friends that he can count on, on whom he can roll up on unannounced, in turmoil and have them welcome him with open arms and sound advice.

As he leaves, he cannot help but feel the tiniest bit of jealousy, for what they are to each other, for the love and trust that exists between them.

He remembers having nights like that with Juliette in what seems like the distant past. When it would be just the two of them, able to talk and decompress in a comfortable atmosphere with nothing more sinister hanging over them. It is nothing like what he has, or rather thought he had, now. He is more hesitant in thinking of the evenings he has shared with Adalind recently, too few and often interrupted. It is different with them, more charged because they are still trying to get to know each other and strung tight because he knows where these evenings end, with them splayed out naked and writhing. One time they barely even spoke before he had her in his lap, with her dress rucked up around her waist and his jeans pushed down his thighs as she rode him out.

It makes the talking feel like a pretense. And it makes him wonder if she has not been pushing for intimacy more because it makes it easier for them to spend time together and have him not question anything. But why would she push for it in the first place?

He remembers the first time they were together, how sweet and intense it had been. It makes him ache just to think of it, knowing now that that was the last and only time they had been together while she was human.

It casts all their conversations since in a new light and now he doesn’t know what to think. Monroe and Rosalee’s suggestion is also coincidentally the easiest for him to do. He just has to wait and see and wonder. He takes the scenic way home, thoughts churning, until he finally manages to get himself under better control.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long pauses between chapters. I am still writing but this summer has been really busy for me. My next month looks to be pretty chill so here is hoping I can post a bit more frequently for a while.
> 
> This chapter continues right after the last scene, dealing with Nick arriving home after discovering Adalind's Hexenbiest has returned. This entire section is in Adalind's POV.

He gets home earlier than she was expecting. It is still late enough that she has already put Kelly down and is dressed for bed, in long pajama pants and a sleep shirt, both a heather gray and made of soft cotton. Her blonde hair is tied to the side and her feet are bare. She is sitting at the kitchen table with most of the lights off in the loft, save for the bathroom light, a table lamp appropriated as a desk lamp, and the light shining from the laptop. 

He looks surprised to see her still awake although it is not that late. He looks around when he comes in and says, “Hey, it’s, uh, kind of dark in here. Any reason you have all the lights off?”

She had had a difficult time getting Kelly down and hadn’t wanted to chance him waking while she was still getting caught up in trying to go back to work. She explains that and he nods but edges around the room to hang his jacket and deposit his shoes in the bedroom. He checks in on Kelly before coming back and she can’t help but think he looks tense, edgy and like he just got a nasty shock. “Rough night?” she asks, wondering if he might have had a close run in with something and that is why he is acting funny. He _was_ out with HW business after all, and even his usual unflappable demeanor must get a shock sometimes.

He looks at her for a second too long before nodding and looking away. “Yeah, you could say that.” He walks over to the fridge to get a beer and opens it, taking a long pull. He leans back against the counter and watches her, gaze a little too intense.

She looks at him quizzically, “Do you want to talk about it?”

His mouth scrunches up and he shakes his head no. “No really. I’m just tired.”

It is plainly a lie, but she nods and accepts the statement at face value. She offers, “I was thinking of going to bed soon.”

He finally looks away from her and answers, “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea,” and proceeds to look around the loft, taking another pull from the bottle. He seems distracted and a bit disengaged so she leaves him to it. Except… “You haven’t heard anything more about Diana, have you?” she asks.

He looks up sharply before shaking his head. His tone changes to apologetic, “No more than I told you about the other day.”

Adalind nods, feeling the slight sting of disappointment again. The information hadn’t been much, just that there wasn’t a child by that name or similar names registered with any governmental organization. Either Diana is not registered or is under a vastly different name but whatever the case, it is a dead end. She sighs.

She wants to ask him about Meisner, but the way he has spoken about Diana means that he thinks the Royals still have her too. Plus, with the way Meisner and Nick have been working together lately, there is no guarantee that Meisner won’t just immediately tell Nick. And if she tells him she thinks the Resistance has Diana, well, that means that HW probably knows and that they haven’t shared this information with Nick. She thinks the Resistance and HW are not the exact same group but they seem to have some overlap as Meisner appears to be involved with both. This leaves her at a stalemate for now.

She puts the thoughts away for now, standing up to gather her things. He eyes her and she has the thought again that he is being a bit strange. “You sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah, it’s just work,” he says and makes a dismissive shrug. 

She just raises an eyebrow and finishes putting her papers away. He is apparently in no mood to talk. She goes to join him in the kitchen, and he moves aside to let her pass. She drops her tea bag in the trash and rinses out her cup to put in the dishwasher. When she turns to the cupboard, he already has a glass out and is handing it to her. She smiles a little in thanks and goes to fill it with water to take to bed. 

She eyes him again and then pauses before she exits to lean on the counter next to him. He watches her and she wonders if she is imagining the wariness there. She wants to reach out to him, to trace her hand along his waist but there is something about his stance, a line of tension in him that holds her back. 

“Are you going to come to bed soon?” Adalind asks thinking this question is at least safe.

He nods and finally relaxes just the tiniest bit. “Yeah, give me 10 minutes.” He glances at the clock and continues, “I have to be up early again.” 

“Okay, well, I’m going to go ahead and lie down.”

Adalind goes to pass him, but he reaches for her then, cupping her elbow and bring her close. He then just looks at her for the longest moment. She watches him back and thinks again that she really needs to tell him but the words lodge in her throat and she thinks that this is just not the right time. He watches her, eyes flickering over her face and something changes in his expression, a softening. 

At any other time, this would be the prelude to something more. A kiss, a caress up her back, her hands on his chest, his waist as they come together, but there is a space between them now, a barrier that she feels like she can’t cross and she doesn’t know what it is or where it came from.

“What?” she asks.

He shakes his head and gives her a little smile, “Nothing.”

She frowns at him and raises and eyebrow, “I think you need to get some sleep. You’re acting a little weird.”

He blinks at her and looks away, “Yeah, you’re probably right,” he acknowledges and with some relief they drop it. 

Later that night, Adalind wakes from a sound sleep, and feels disoriented as though emerging from underwater. Initially she is confused, the feeling that something is wrong pulling her to full wakefulness. She looks for Nick and realizes that he is gone. His side of the bed is empty and cold. He has been gone for a while. She sits up and calls out to him but it takes a moment for him to respond and when he does he sounds funny, hesitant and off. 

“Are you okay?” she asks.

He answers, “Just getting some water. Sorry…I was trying not to wake you up.” She hears the sound of the tap running in the kitchen and some shuffling as he moves around. He comes back in the bedroom moving gingerly as though still trying not to make any sound. 

She watches him and thinks that he is still acting funny. For some reason his wording strikes her as strange and it makes her hesitate as she replies, “That’s ok.”

Adalind looks at him and wonders if he is being bothered like she is by the secrets that lie between them. Maybe she’s not the only one that is feeling the distance and the weight of words unspoken. There is a list of things that she wishes she could tell him. And then she remembers that there is actually something relatively benign that she was planning on telling him but forgot. She starts, “I-I forgot to tell you something.”

“Yeah?” he says with a surprising degree of alertness and turns to her.

“I have an interview with my old law firm tomorrow.”

“Oh?” he replies and looks surprised, “You ready to get back to work?” 

She retreats a little back into the covers, “Yeah, I am… as long as they’ll let me bring Kelly with me. You okay with that?”

He pauses, looking blankly down at the coverlet before replying, “Yeah, if that is what you want.”

It’s not exactly but, “I think it’s time,” she says.

They lay back and get settled in, but it is with a distance, a remove larger than the space between them. She can’t help but think that they are merely talking at each other, polite and perfunctory but that an element is missing in their interactions. She glances over at him again but he is quiet and she doubts herself for a moment, wondering if it is merely the space of a moment, or something from earlier that is still bothering him and making him act different. 

She makes herself put it aside, but it is a while before she falls asleep.

When she opens her eyes again, it feels like she has only closed her eyes for a moment. But the grey light filtering into the bedroom and the drizzle of rain on the overhead glass indicates that hours have passed and it is now once again morning. 

She glances over reflexively but somehow knows what she will find. He is up already. Adalind reaches for him, feeling out the living presences nearby, feeling the tiny intense surge of her son and the other male presence, warm and familiar with a scent like rain and pine and juniper berries.

She gets up and spots him, and the part in her that has been awakening, that has been opening more and more each successive day, sees him too and smiles. He smells like her. He is freshly showered, clean-shaven and dressed but he spends every night in her bed, in sheets that smell of her, in the home that is theirs, that is covered in her scent, and he is familiar, intimately so and strong, so strong.

Adalind goes to him and sees him whirl, the barely widened eyes and jump in his heart rate that tells her he was startled, that she somehow managed to sneak up on him. He blinks and then frowns, and she does a hard check, realizing quite suddenly that she is alarmingly close to a Power leak, that she has been in stealth mode covering her approach with her Powers. 

There is an odd moment where she sees his interest pique and he says as almost a question, “You startled me.” Then, a tendril of suspicion and apprehension trickles in and his gaze sharpens to take her in. 

She blinks rapidly and gives a little chuckle, attempting to waive it off, “Had to happen eventually.”

He gives the barest quirk of an eyebrow but she notes that he doesn’t turn away from her again, instead sliding over to the kitchen, moving away from her even as he says, “Did you sleep ok?”

She shrugs and lets that be her answer. She follows him and it is like a whipcord between them, this awareness of just where there other is in space, footfalls careful and measured, overly precise. It feels suddenly like a dance, a game. She watches him pour coffee into a thermos and then get out another cup for her and thinks about how he was prowling around the loft last night. “You?” she asks and hears the edge in her voice, not able to entirely mask her interest in the question. 

He glances up a little quickly, expression guarded and wary and shrugs. She can see that he is going for nonchalant but she knows the line of those shoulders; she can see the tension he is trying to hide. “Same,” he says and then adds almost as though he can’t help it, “I just have a lot on my mind.” He is not the only one.

“Oh? Anything you want to talk about?” she asks even as she already knows his answer.

But he pauses as though he is actually considering it before he shakes his head and glances at the clock. “I’ve got to get going. Early day.”

He goes into the bedroom to get his shoes and gives Kelly a kiss. He glances back at her then and walks to her and asks, “You said you have your interview today?”

She aims for lighthearted in her response, “Yeah, this afternoon. I’ll probably be gone most of the day but I’ll have my phone on me.”

He nods then reaches for her and she leans in to him in a hug. He draws back to look at her, “Good luck then,” he says and then gives her a light peck on the cheek. The little spot of affection is unexpected and over before she knows it. She wants to drag him back but he is already moving away.

She feels a chill creep up her spine even as she responds with a casual air she does not feel.

Adalind watches on the monitors as he leaves and then thinks, _I am running out of time_. 

The thought comes out of nowhere but leaves behind it a clarity and certainty she has not felt for weeks. She has her interview this afternoon but needs to leave early to eat and find time to park and get Kelly settled before they arrive. It is hours away. She has not doubt that things will go well, that she will be rehired. Her meeting with Marianne almost cinched that. 

But that means that she will be gone during the day now and…. This might be her last chance to look. 

She also can’t shrug off this entire strange night, can’t shake loose the feeling that somehow everything is about to go to shit. 

She glances over at the door leading down to the tunnel. It is now or never and there is no time to dawdle. Adalind digs down to where her Hexenbiest lies. She pushes outward, towards the tunnel and down and feels it, the small little kernel, the irritant at the edge of her awareness, the thing that Nick hid away from her. 

The thing he brought back from Germany and was checking on last night. It’s still there but for how much longer?

Decision made, she does a quick change to clothes better suited to digging around in the dirt, grabbing the baby monitor and lamp on her way. Kelly is still mercifully asleep but she knows that she doesn’t have long.

Adalind has known this was there for a while now. She doesn’t know what it is or what it does, other than that is some kind of a magical relic Nick doesn’t want her to know he has. She has avoided it because if she did come to find out exactly what it is, then that would just mean one more secret between them, one more thing to drive them apart. 

And… and she had been hoping that he would tell her about it himself, that he would consider her trustworthy enough on her own that he would _want_ to tell her.

But it seems that they are running out of time in more ways than one and this is one area she can’t wait on anymore, not with this feeling she has now.

The tunnel is dark and dank and has that stench of mildew and earth and things left to rot years ago. She climbs down the rungs of the ladder and swings the lamp around, peering into the darkness. A faint moisture clings to the surface of the bricks and she tries to avoid touching anything. Rubble from broken bricks, and other refuse she tries not to look too closely at crowds the edge of the wall. She reaches for her Powers again and feels the thing immediately in the back of her mouth. The base of one of the walls is fragmented with a hole in the middle that contains that _thing_ pulsing inside. She carefully pulls the bricks aside and sees it, a bronze colored metal box, the right size and shape of the one she felt in Nick’s bag a couple of weeks ago. Gingerly, she lifts the lid and catches a whiff of something dark and prickling, and immediately her Powers are edging up again, almost against her will. 

She gives the lid a sniff, drawing it in over her tongue. She frowns and licks the edge, the barest of touches and gets it. Blood. Nick’s blood. Her tongue tingles and she realizes that it had been locked, locked with Grimm blood… which is unusual to say the least. She frowns and looks inside. A bit of burlap is wadded up inside, wrapped around… a wooden stake? She sets the lid aside and lifts the lamp, reaching with one hand. That tingle sharpens and her hand morphs, triggering a woge. She hesitates and reconsiders. She has not touched it. For it to trigger a woge without even being touched... she sits back on her haunches and thinks. Maybe she should have brought gloves.

Deciding to be cautious, she lifts the little package with her Powers, the bit of cloth and wood floating upwards and unwrapping. It is strong, strong and strange, feeling different in a way she can’t define. She finds her attention riveted on the cloth and licks her lips again. Nick. His blood was in this as well. But… but it was incompatible. She probes harder but this is not what is required. 

This thing requires touch. 

She bites her lip before finally holding her hand out and letting the cloth just graze the tips her fingers. It settles over her fingertips and she feels a sharp sting and release. Blood again. It has drawn out her blood. A few drops seep out and then it ripples and shimmers like a cat being pet. She watches as it changes, the edges knitting themselves back together before her eyes, the ragged edges disappearing and smoothing. 

Then, from the top right corner words start to appear in a ripple of light. It is in Latin and while she is not nearly so fluent as Sean at this dead language, she understands enough. Even so she has to struggle to keep up with the text as it flashes before her eyes, each word appearing and disappearing as soon as she registers it before the next flashes up in succession.

When she gets to the end, she lifts it away and it once more shrivels before her eyes to become ragged and worn. She reapplies her touch and with a few more drops of blood, it starts all over again. She has to read it three times before she feels satisfied she has interpreted it to the best of her ability.

And what she discovers is not reassuring.

It makes her stop and think. _What has he been doing with this?_ This is dangerous… and he might not even know it. The cloth tingles on the edge of her fingertips, maintaining her woge and she knows without a doubt that this was made with Hexenbiest magic and sealed with Grimm blood. All of this was done hundreds of years ago at a time when Grimms and Hexenbiests could not have been more at odds. And the text… it is likely he has not seen it.

It requires the blood of a Hexenbiest to be read and she does not detect the blood of Eve anywhere on it. 

Knowing what she knows now, she does not touch the stake and finds herself struggling not to flinch away from it. She replaces everything back in the box and rearranges it the way she found it. 

But this is not something she should leave be. If he uses this… she feels a constriction in her chest. She does not want him to be hurt, but should she tell him? Tell him now?

Adalind considers and briefly forgets where she is for a moment as possibilities too numerous to mention swirl before her eyes. 

She is finally interrupted as the baby monitor crackles and she hears Kelly cry. It snaps her back to the present with a start. Kelly’s awake now and she is out of time. Deciding quickly, she touches the bricks around the box and spells them in place, linking them to her earrings. If they are moved, her earrings will jiggle and she will know that he has gotten back into the box. She can delay until then and know that as long as he does not return to the box, he is okay.

Knowing that this is the best she can do for now, she leaves but feels far from satisfied. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Nick, he is trying so hard not to act as freaked out as he feels. Adalind just doesn't think that it is possible he knows. She thinks he would act way different if he did.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Adalind goes on her interview and Nick rescues Rosalee and Monroe.

Adalind packs up Kelly’s things, getting his diaper bag ready and things in the car. She is immaculately done up but overly conscious that with a baby that can go belly up at any moment. She puts a change of clothes in the car as well in case she needs it. It ends up taking them longer to get ready than she expected but her margin for error had been wide for just this reason. She’s thankful for this now. She kept getting distracted during the preparation thinking about what she found and what it could mean. She feels like she’s been lied to and it stings. It makes her feel cheated and resentful even as she is fully aware that she has been lying as well. And what does that make them? What are they even doing?

This situation is unsatisfying in so many ways. 

Still, there are things to be done today. Plans to be executed and reasons to keep busy. If nothing else, she feels more vindicated for planning her return to work now. At least if Nick kicks them out she’ll have some way to support herself. Adalind has been betrayed so many times by those closest to her, and she can no longer function without having some kind of failsafe at hand.

But no matter how she talks herself around it, this knowledge is too raw. She’s feeling hurt and it is a festering wound. 

She keeps going and finally finds herself stepping through the doors of her old law firm once again. Her former law firm does indeed seem pleased to have her back, even welcoming her son into the office. Up until now, she has not heard of this open arrangement to childcare occurring at her firm.

She gets her own office, which is a nice surprise considering that she will probably be working at home about a third of the time. The tour is abbreviated because she is more than familiar with where everything is located. Harrison mostly sticks to pointing out some of the upgrades. There is a new espresso maker and some new additions to the staff. Everyone in the firm is still Wesen. At the end of the tour, Harrison hands her her first case. It is indeed one where a Hexenbiest would be invaluable. She’s introduced to the partner managing the case as well as to the junior partner and assistant working on it. Harrison tells her that there is no rush that she get started right away but it is clear there is work to be done. Conversely it also assuages some of the worry she has been feeling about how easy it was for her to slot back into place here.

As a bonus, it serves the dual purpose of being very distracting as she now has something else to worry about. And at this point, work is something of a relief.

 

***

 

It is another two hours before Nick manages to get home. Even though the case was neatly wrapped up with multiple witnesses and the dramatic confession of the perpetrator, the scene still had to be processed, statements collected, and paperwork filed. Nick fills Hank in on what is happening with Monroe and Rosalee and after things are more under control, Hank waves him on. Nick will come in early and Hank will wrap up the scene tonight. Nick walks away as Hank calls the Captain to give him a final update. 

He gets home and gingerly opens the door to the loft. Adalind is still up and the door to the tunnel is shut. He breathes a sigh of relief that at least things seem relatively steady, with Adalind still oblivious to the presence of Monroe and Rosalee in the tunnel.

She looks up when he emerges from the lift and it is with some relief that he notes that she is still done up for work. He maneuvers around the stroller parked by the door to put up his things. Her heels were kicked off next to the stroller, but otherwise, her makeup and hair are still styled and she is wearing a tight black dress that he doesn’t remember her wearing before. She usually showers before bed so this is a very good sign.

He greets Adalind and is overly conscious of the fact that Monroe and Rosalee are listening in, their presence only belied by the faintest of sounds that his superior hearing can pick up emanating from the tunnel. She is sitting at the kitchen table surrounded by paperwork littered with pens and stickies, a highlighter held poised in her hand. She has a cup of tea in her favorite mug in her other hand and the computer is open in front of her.

Nick walks up to her and raises an eyebrow. She looks up as he approaches but her expression remains tense. He gestures at the paperwork, “I take it your interview went well then?”

She gives a little smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. She replies, “Yeah, you could say that. I already got my first case.” She gestures at the folders, “It looks like they really do need the help.” She shrugs with a tilt of her head but he can see that she is pleased by this even as he detects an undercurrent that he can’t quite decipher. 

He smiles back, knowing that she was more worried about it than she let on. He goes for a neutral topic asking, “Have you had anything to eat?”

She shrugs, “I just warmed up some leftovers. There is some more in there if you are hungry.”

He nods and walks into the kitchen. “How did Kelly do?” 

Adalind smiles and this time it is genuine, “He was great. The partners loved him.”

He pauses by the door to the tunnel and hears another shift. Nick can just faintly hear Monroe’s voice, whispering with some urgency, “Hey buddy, we’d really like to get out of here. Think you can make that happen soon?”

Monroe pauses as if waiting for a response and then Rosalee, realizing the difficulty of this situation, adds, “Tap once for yes and twice for no.”

Nick tenses up even though he was expecting something like this. He glances over at Adalind, but she is unchanged. He feels a brief kick of relief but also a heightened sense of urgency. He detours to the fridge to get out a beer and pops the top, tapping the bottle once on the counter top. 

He goes back over to her, “Do you think you will be wrapping up soon?”

She glances up at him and then over at the clock. She grimaces, “Probably,” she answers but he can see she is reluctant and makes no move to get up. 

He looks over at the bathroom and she follows his gaze, “I can keep an ear out for Kelly if you wanted to take a hot bath.”

At those words, she gives him a long look, something uncertain in her gaze before her resolve starts to crumble. She hesitates for a second more before giving in. “That does sound nice.” She sighs, “Fine, but I have to be up early again to finish this.” She wrinkles her nose.

“Even though it is your first day back?”

She looks at him, “Harrison said I could start off slow, but… well, you know what that means.” She gives him a significant look. “I don’t want him to completely mommy track me if I can avoid it. Let’s just say it is a good thing they need me.” She shakes her head.

He watches her and thinks, _You mean because you are a Hexenbiest again?_ He knows that must be the real value that she is alluding to here. It is tempting to ask just to watch her try to cover for it. But he refrains. 

He takes another swig and says instead, “Yeah, me too. We solved that case tonight but we still have a lot of the paperwork left to wrap up.”

“Oh? So who was it?”

He shrugs and shoots her a sharp-edged smile, “The lawyer.”

She gives him an incredulous look as she stacks up her papers. “What? You’re kidding.”

He shakes his head, “No, really. He was an old family friend that took it upon himself to get revenge for their son who was killed. He was Inugami.”

She pauses and raises a golden eyebrow, “That’s pretty rare, especially in this day in age.”

He is a little surprised that she has heard of it, but then given her new job and her previously demonstrated expertise perhaps he shouldn’t be. _She_ is _a Hexenbiest,_ he thinks and pauses, jarred but the thought is easier than it was. 

He watches her for a moment and thinks that things do not seem nearly so different as he thought they would. She seems a little distant and tense but then she is just starting work again. He thinks back to his own behavior and wonders if he is giving anything away himself. 

To compensate, he makes himself follow her into the bathroom, only hesitating briefly at the threshold, trying to remain casual as he drinks his beer and tells her a little more about the case. She turns on the tap as he gives her a few more details, watches as she gets out her bath things and flips on the radio. 

He hears Monroe again, muttering something that sounds like “Thank god,” and then something more. Rosalee mutters something in response but even he can’t quite make it out either but they are likely just talking to themselves. 

He lingers in the bathroom for longer than he should and it leaves him vulnerable. Turning from the tap, she gives him a speculative look that arrests whatever else he was going to say. She walks up to him and turns, presenting her back with the fastening and zipper for him to undo. She glances over her shoulder at him, blue eyes opaque with an expression he can’t decipher. “Do you mind?” she asks softly. 

The humidity in the air has thickened, the water still running at a low churn in the background, and the low light has turned the room warm and golden. He sets his beer down on the counter and carefully undoes the clip and slides the zipper down. Her skin is warm and smooth underneath. He becomes aware of the stuttering of his breath, the throb of his pulse, and the shivery feeling in his gut. 

Nick realizes he is dangerously close to getting distracted here himself. He steps back and feels the rush of air left by his displacement. Adalind turns sharply at his retreat, her nose flaring with a spark of something in her eyes that sharpens but then in a blink she recovers, moving away with a business-like efficiency, gaze averted. He bows out, shutting the door behind him before she finishes undressing. He doesn’t trust himself.

Nick runs a hand through his hair and doesn’t give himself the time to think about what just almost happened. He goes to the door to the tunnel and finds Monroe waiting right behind the door with Rosalee on the ladder behind him. He ushers them into the loft, waving for silence. Monroe points at the shut door of the bathroom and mouths something at him. He takes a guess and nods because that is where Adalind is. Conservatively, they only have fifteen minutes and he still has to show them how to get out. 

Monroe and Rosalee make as if to go to the elevator but he shakes his head and gestures that they should follow him. The elevator would make too much noise. He leads them to the stairwell that opens up on the roof instead, guiding them around the floorboards that creak as he keeps an ear out for both Adalind and Kelly. He can hear Adalind as she moves around in the bath but it is a tense couple of minutes. He doesn’t know what he would do or say if she found them like that.

He gets them upstairs and out of sight and unlocks the fire escape, glad that he had the foresight to oil it up so it doesn’t squeak as he lowers it down.

As soon as they appear to be in the clear, Monroe busts out with, “Sorry, man, we thought we had plenty of time earlier but she got home sooner than expected.”

He waves off their concern. “Don’t worry about it. Are you okay?”

They exchange glances, “We might have marked some territory in there but otherwise we’re fine.”

He grins and shakes his head, “Sorry it took me so long to get back, I had to stay to help wrap up our case. How long have you been down there?”

Rosalee shakes her head, “Too long. That is kind of a creepy place down there and I have to say I am not excited about going down there again.”

“Did you find anything?”

They exchange a glance and Monroe speaks, “There was an old dead guy, like skeletonized-dead, looked like he had been chained to the wall and left there about a hundred years ago.”

“Really?” he asks 

Rosalee winces and nods.

He blinks in surprise. What is he supposed to do with that? Talk about a cold case. “Anything else?”

“Bunch of old passages, most of them blocked off, some of them go on for quite a ways. Looks like old tunnels used for Prohibition-era bootlegging. Didn’t find any booze though. It was actually pretty cool until we found the dead guy.”

Rosalee shoots Monroe a look for that last comment and rubs her hands on her pants. “We didn’t find a passage to the surface, if that is what you’re wondering. But there was a lot of tunnel to explore but none of it looked like it had been used in a very long time.”

Nicks nods, feeling at least partially satisfied. At least that means he is less likely to get any unexpected visitors coming from that quarter. It would be useful if he knew there was an actual escape route through there though. Still, there must be an outlet somewhere considering what it used to be used for. He’ll just have to find some more time for it later. 

He hears a change in the sounds coming from downstairs. He tells them and they scramble back towards the edge of the roof, but then Rosalee turns back to him.

“There’s one other thing.” Nick can hear Adalind finishing up so he urges her to hurry when she hesitates. “Eve came by tonight.”

He freezes, “What?!” 

“It was right after Adalind came home. Eve came up the elevator and basically threatened Adalind to not to hurt you, warned her, and left.”

He can’t believe this. He looks at Monroe for confirmation and he nods. “She was here? What do you mean she threatened Adalind? Did she do anything else?”

Rosalee gets a pinched look, “No, it was just words. Eve basically told Adalind she would come after her if she hurt you.”

He just looks at her, frowning and unnerved. “Are you serious?” When Rosalee only nods, he turns his attention back to Kelly and Adalind and breaks off. “She’s done. I’ve got to get back. We’ll talk later. Just be careful when you’re getting off the ladder at the bottom and hang close to the wall. You should be mostly out of sight on the way down.”

They nod and he sends them down, watching for the first few steps. The ladders are stable and he has scaled them a number of times himself. They are pretty easy to get down, only hard to get up and entirely that way by design. He had wanted to remove them from the exterior all together but it had been against code for this type of building so he had been forced to leave them. He still doesn’t like the security risk they leave but at times like these they do make for a good escape route.

He turns back and goes downstairs, fiddling with his phone as he comes down so he can pretend he was talking to someone in case she heard voices.

But she is still in the bathroom when he gets down, drying her hair. He stops and looks around but nothing looks out of place. He knows he never gave Eve their address but Meisner might have given it to her or she might have followed him home another time. He rubs his face and thinks that at least Adalind had seemed relatively normal when he got home. Unharmed anyway if a little tense. Eve coming by would explain that though.

He peaks in on Kelly and sees him sleeping peacefully, hands curled up around his head. He also looks fine. Nick breathes a sigh of relief, illogically reassured even though he knows that Adalind would have done everything to protect him from Eve if necessary. He watches his son for a moment, taking in the soft rise and fall of his breath before he steps over to the window where he can just see Monroe and Rosalee disappearing around the corner of the neighboring building where they parked their car. He lets out a sigh of relief that at least that was taken care of easily enough. 

He goes back over to Kelly and traces a finger over his palm and gets a tiny grip in response, Kelly shifting in a stretch. He goes to step back but brushes a kiss across his forehead before he withdraws. 

He hears a shifting and sees Adalind paused on the landing. She was watching him but now looks away with a twist to her mouth. She is dressed in her nightgown now, brushing her hair. 

She glances down at Kelly. “He was a little trooper today. I was still half-convinced he was going to do the fussy, high energy baby thing but he stayed calm and content all day. He did better than I would have hoped.”

Nick smiles and says, “Sounds like it might work out then.” Testing, he asks, “Anything else happen today?”

She hesitates briefly before saying with a brittle lightness, “Not really,” and then walks back out of the room again. 

He watches her go and glances back down at their son, feeling unsettled.

For lack of anything else to do, he gets up and goes into the kitchen and warms up a small plate of leftover chicken and vegetables for dinner, not terribly hungry but knowing he will be famished in the morning if he doesn’t eat anything now. He watches as Adalind packs up her bag and gets Kelly’s bag set up by the door and ready to leave in the morning. This will be a big change and he is not sure they are prepared. 

He puts away his dishes and goes to get ready for bed, finding his beer bottle still a third full, warm and abandoned on the counter from when he made his hasty exit earlier. There is still a residual amount of humidity in the room and it smells nice with a soft floral scent. He glances in the bath and sees a few scattered herbs around the drain and notes the bottles lined in the cabinet, some without labels and looking homemade. He wonders where she got them, if she made them or bought them and thinks about the garden she is making upstairs. This has all been in front of him for a while. It is only now that he is seeing it. He wonders what he would find if he kept looking. He wonders if she has been busy, if she has been doing Zaubertranke. He wonders how much she is hiding. 

But then again, he has just squired out some of his friends from where they were hiding in the wall to investigate a tunnel he doesn’t trust her to know more about. 

He finally finishes and shuts the door; he has had his fill for the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is slow going, but hang in there with me. This is now the most I have ever written for a story and the first I have posted. I used to occasionally start writing but then would stop and never finish as my interests drifted. I decided to post this as I went as a way of incentivizing myself to actually finish this time. Just knowing that I have people waiting for the next chapter has been motivation enough it seems. :) So thank you for reading!


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the long gap. I bought a house and moved across country for a new job. Things were a little chaotic for a while and I have been working some pretty long hours without much of an end in sight. Also it is hard to get back into the swing of things when like none of the Youtube videos are available in my country any longer. I had some serious refreshing of the memory to do. And also lots of work.

It doesn’t get better.

Things are fraught, strung tight and precariously cordial. They talk at each other but it remains impersonal, the kind of small talk you make with someone you don’t know well and don’t want to offend. Yet even this light, inconsequential level of conversation has morphed into a laborious gesture of restraint. 

As much as he hates to think of the comparison, it was like this when Juliette turned. A distance and wariness grew between them where one hadn’t existed before. It had ultimately been impossible to revoke. He remembers when Juliette was arrested and she had taunted him saying, “What do you think you are going to do? Just crawl in bed beside me and pretend like nothing happened?” Because the fact of the matter was that he couldn’t. He had slept on the couch and avoided her as much as possible. That situation hadn’t turned out well. 

However, this time it is different because he still has to pretend that he doesn’t know. In some ways that makes it easier because then things stay the same. Only now he has to fight the sharp bite of wariness he has around her all the time. 

The first night, he had barely slept a wink, too on edge to really do more than nod off before startling awake every thirty minutes. Days later, exhaustion and the relative monotony have lulled him into a desensitized state. It helps if he focuses on the consistent things and doesn’t linger on the differences. 

But they are nowhere near where they were.

He has taken to bracing himself before he comes home at night, knowing that he has another evening to brazen through ahead of him. He doesn’t have any reason to think that tonight is going to be any different.

Kelly is already asleep, looking the picture of baby contentment. Adalind still has that harried, tense look to her that she has worn since she went back to work but it has softened. She has been stressed and anxious lately, eager to prove herself now that she is working again. 

Yet tonight she is unusually chatty and starts to pick up her paperwork as soon as he arrives. He tries to adopt her lighter tone and asks after Kelly. She tells him that she thinks he’s teething. 

“Already?”

“Yeah, I think so…” but she trails off before continuing more softly, “I’m not sure.” She gestures to illustrate her ambivalence and adds, “I’ve never really gotten this far before.”

He blinks and takes a moment to fuss with his jacket while a frown escapes him at the odd phrasing. She must be thinking of Diana. It is unusual for her to mention Diana at all, especially in such a nonchalant way to him given everything.

Uncertain what to do with this, he decides to ignore it and changes the subject, “How’s work going?”

Adalind brightens although it seems more deliberate that genuine, “Okay,” she says, before adding, “It feels good to be back.”

He nods, “Is Kelly liking it?”

Her tone turns a little more stilted but she puts a brave face on it. “Huh…yeah… we make a pretty good team,” she says. “He makes some pretty tough clients relax. They kind of forget about their problems.”

That makes him smile and he asks if she thinks it would work at the precinct. She chuckles and says, “I’m sure he’d love a little Detective Man Dad Time,” then adds with a bit more hesitation, “…which I wouldn’t mind myself… except substituting dad with lover.”

It catches him off guard as cleanly as if she had smacked him. Her forwardness leaves him momentarily stuttering even as he can feel a flush working its way up his collar. He is simultaneously dismayed and flattered and the confusing mix wreaks havoc with his composure for a moment before he manages to say, “Yeah, yeah, I guess we have both been a little busy lately.” 

But he is still left unprepared for her approach, slow and cautious as it is. It has been days since they have had any real physical contact. As much as he hates to admit it, it is hard to keep up the façade while he fights the urge not to let on that a part of him considers her a threat. He has been overly aware of where she is and what she is doing when they are in the same sphere, falling asleep after her and waking before she rises. 

Their schedules have been more chaotic since she went back to work. She is gone more and when she is home, she is often still thinking about work, more stressed and distracted. However, it has also made some things easier. They haven’t had sex since before she went back, before he found out she was a Hexenbiest again. It is somewhat explainable by her starting work and their hectic schedules but truthfully he is also wary of getting too close. Yet still there is the awareness that they have had sex since she turned back.

The lack of intimacy only makes their interactions more strained. It doesn’t help that on an interpersonal level they swing widely between awkwardly cordial and so fraught with sexual tension he can barely think straight. Moments of easy affection that lie in between the extremes are the rarity. There is very little that is safe or casual about them.

She says, “Yeah, I know things have been a little tense, and I’m sorry.” If only she knew exactly why he has been so tense. Yet the apology does something to unspool the little knot of tension he has been carrying around with him. It is not the apology he wants, but it is nevertheless desired.

Adalind sighs and continues, “This isn’t the easiest relationship because of how we started. Trust isn’t a natural thing for us.” Given how she has been lying about her Powers coming back, he finds that hard to disagree with and then quells the surge of annoyance that accompanies the thought.

She sidles up next to him and he does not move away. His attention is caught by the next thing she says, “But… I think we need to work on that.” Internally he agrees, but he doesn’t trust himself to speak. He sees the way she is looking at him, hopeful and soft and he finds his resentment slipping away. 

Her proximity has the same effect on him as always. He finds himself responding even as he thinks that he shouldn’t. She’s beautiful and apologetic and familiar. He can’t look away. His eyes drop to her mouth and she takes it as acceptance, moving in and laying hands upon his chest. 

Then, ever so gently she plants her lips upon his. 

The first kiss is soft and tentative but she adjusts, moving closer. The next kiss deepens with a sweetness he cannot deny. He gives in, swaying towards her, thinking it has been too long. He has missed this; he has missed her. And it seems that she feels the same. 

When she pulls away, he follows. He is reluctant to open his eyes, wanting her to come back, to kiss him again. But she waits him out, waits until he is looking at her again.

Her next words are firm and certain. She says, “This is not stopping here.” And he doesn’t let himself think but follows her instead. His mind feels like it is spinning, stuck in a loop leaving him a slave to his body, to his basic desires. 

She is beautiful and currently looks nothing like her Hexenbiest form. He knows what she looks like in both forms but even the knowledge of what lies beneath cannot dissuade him from the vision before him.

She winds her arms around his neck and his hands trace along her back, to unhook her bra and let it flutter to the floor. He can feel the soft fullness of her breasts pressing against him, the skin taut and nipples hard. His body knows hers, knows how she likes to be held, the pressure she prefers when he touches her, and he can feel himself responding. The knowledge of what she is now is like an electric hum under his skin, a tension in his jaw but it blends with his arousal and adds a spice that spurs him on.

Adalind smiles with an edge and hooks fingers in his belt, to unbutton and unzip his fly. He pulls back to unhook his gun and his badge and place them on the side table. When he comes back she is stripped out of her leggings and there is a ton of skin on display. 

He tells himself that this is a test; that this is the best way to try to see what she really feels. But this is out of his control, a heedless descent with him merely a passenger.

They kiss and he enjoys the feel of her, warm and soft and completely bare, eager under his hands as they strip and fall down to the bed tightly wrapped around each other. She groans and hooks a leg around him, flipping him so she is resting on top. Instead of it being alarming, it is instead intensely arousing. He pulls her hips to his, grinding her down against him and she squirms, trying to line them up. But he loves to see her like this and teases her instead, rubbing himself against her but holding her firm against him. They lock gazes and he sees her, pink and flushed and that moment of distraction is all it takes for her to slide wet against him and take him deep inside. 

He has to close his eyes against the sensation, biting his lip on a grunt. She holds him there and flexes around him, feeling him so hard and stiff inside her. Her eyes flutter and she parts her lips and starts to rock against him, close and tight. He surges up, cupping her face so that they can kiss and he drops a hand down to her clit, rubbing her in the little circles and flicks that she likes. She breaks away so she can bury her face in his neck, biting at his shoulder as she tenses and tenses and then breaks open in a gasp of his name, coming around him in a fluttering wave. Her hair is soft and tickling against his face, the smell of her shampoo familiar, the way she sags against him familiar.

He groans and slows his thrusting but doesn’t let himself come, preferring to hang on so he can watch her drop limp into his arms, can feel her aftershocks and see the moment she realizes he is still hard inside her.

She blinks, glancing down and then arching an eyebrow at him, “Oh, really?”

He responds to the challenge in the smile, feeling the edge of competition even as he is confident in her desire for him. There are so many things that are different and yet the same. They have been together long enough that there is a sense of predictability to fall back on; he knows the ways she likes to be touched, there where and the whens. The reactions are the same, the sounds the same - the way she gives herself over to the pleasure, her self-confident enjoyment in her own body’s responses, the lack of self consciousness that he has always found so attractive. Yet it is all tinged with his awareness of how she has changed now, of what she is once again. 

This should really feel more dangerous than it does. Yet, he has always known what she was, what she would possibly become again. 

They lock gazes and he rolls her over so he is now on top. She lets out a chuckle, running her hand over her flushed face before shifting her hips so he can settle more comfortably against her. She smiles at him, a mischievous smirk, before grabbing him around the middle and rocking against him.

“What are you waiting for?” she asks before squeezing around his dick when he doesn’t start thrusting right away. He doesn’t need any further encouragement, shifting his angle for deeper penetration as she lets out a grunt, which quickly slides into a moan. 

She grips his shoulders as he thrusts but he can’t maintain the pace for long, finally having to stop or risk coming. She had been making increasingly insistent sounds and lets loose a sharp sound when he stops moving. But he pulls out anyway, rearranging her so she is on her front while she shoots him a blue-eyed glare out from beneath her hair. 

He slides back in and thrusts against her, coming soon afterwards, only barely managing to hold on as she comes a second time. They lie there afterwards, worn out and sated as their sweat dries. He watches her, hesitant and still a little surprised this has happened at all. She is smiling, half obscured by her own hair and he wishes it could be like this all the time. This is simple, close and warm and no talking is required. 

He watches her and she catches him at it. She stills and something in her eyes softens. She leans close and they are kissing again and….he drifts. He lets go and relaxes and lets himself enjoy the moment and the warmth of her skin.

They fall asleep tangled together, her head on his chest with her arms around his waist.

When he wakes in the morning, she is there, warm and close. The sun is shining through the skylights, their son is sleeping soundly in his crib, and he starts. A fine tremor shivers through him as he remembers the night before. She stirs as he shifts and her eyes slant open. She lifts up, hands upon his chest as he tries to relax, to cover his unease. But she was apparently more awake than he thought because she remains tense, watchful.

He isn’t sure how he feels about what happened last night. But really the only difference is that now he knows. 

Not liking what she sees on his face, she starts to withdraw. 

He stops her with a hand to her wrist, the gesture automatic, a reflex to her distance. It surprises her and she pauses and opens her mouth to speak, only getting out his name before a shake of his head halts her breath.

She frowns and runs a hand over his brow, “Are you okay? You’re acting weird.”

He is caught by the earnestness in her gaze, the way she seems to be worried about him and to mean it. He looks away and his eyes catch on the bedside clock. He evades, “Sorry, just panicked thinking I had overslept.”

She nods lifting up and he is treated once again to the long lean, graceful lines of her naked body. He stares and tries not to stare. 

He gets up and takes a shower, sticking his head under the water. He is frustrated with himself, annoyed and stifled, not sure if he should feel regret or relief. Underneath it all is that feeling of languor, the bone deep relaxation that comes the morning after. 

Yet Adalind is still here, still here and wanting him apparently. And doesn’t that create a warm, pleased feeling because sex is not something he has been asking for lately but she has been demanding it, demanding him and she knows – she knows what he is, she knows what she is and still she continues. It must be enough or else why is she still here? He can’t help the feeling of relief this brings. 

Or the anger because he also knows she has been lying. 

He spins it around and around in his head but there are no answers, only more worries.


End file.
